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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27898603">The Story of Us (Looks alot like a tragedy now)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADOWBaldwinnstuffs/pseuds/ADOWBaldwinnstuffs'>ADOWBaldwinnstuffs</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>It's hard to say i'm sorry [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Discovery of Witches (TV), All Souls Trilogy - Deborah Harkness, The Thick Of It</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:26:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>31,977</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27898603</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADOWBaldwinnstuffs/pseuds/ADOWBaldwinnstuffs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Baldwin Clairmont/Original Character(s), Baldwin de Clermont/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>It's hard to say i'm sorry [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042914</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sians POV:</p>
<p>“I know I look fabulous, but do I look like an employee of a big shot stockbroker?!” I whined, my grandmother had never in my recollection told me I looked anything other than beautiful. She insisted it was not from a feeling of obligation, but because I was ‘utterly stunning, like she had once been’. I respect my elders, so who am I to disagree?!</p>
<p>“Pip, whatever you wear you always look stunning. Those heels, that skirt, an envious combination!” her eyes scanned me one last time “though, I’m not sure if your dad was here he would approve of the pencil skirt, but what did he know?!”</p>
<p>A faint smile appeared on my lips. It had been such a long time since I thought about my dad. Losing him was difficult, but dealing with the wake of destruction his suicide caused was far more painful. I was angry at first, but I have long since lost any anger towards him.</p>
<p>“The skirt wouldn’t be half the issue, it’s the stockings and garters underneath he’d have kittens over” my sister Kelly, aka ‘Pop’ chimed in, we all laughed in response “not sure what old men you plan on impressing, but steer clear of Baldwin Montclair. You can’t resist a red flag but trust me that’s <em>trouble”</em> she raised her brow and wagged her finger like she was scolding her child</p>
<p>“listen Pop I know I’ve got a bit rep for loose knickers but even I draw the line at my boss. Plus, he’s not <em>that </em>attractive” that was a lie. When I went for my intern interview I almost wet myself in excitement at the absolute site of Mr. Montclair. Three piece suit, thick thighs and broad shoulders – <em>Fuck me sideways. </em>“And for a matter of fact, my body count is lower than yours, you absolute Jezebel! Anyway, me and my loose morals are leaving, toodles” I blew them both a kiss as I strode out the house.</p>
<p>Clicking down the streets of London my mind wondered to what working as an intern for Mr. Montclair would entail. His firm was a far cry from any past job id had and probably would never have another opportunity like it. I was nervous I digress. I know I am capable, but this is my first “big girl big world” job and I’m quite frankly bricking it. <em>Maybe if he hates me ill pop a tit out.</em></p>
<p>I beathed an audible sigh as I bowled through the glass doors. I had been given strict instructions to come to the top floor so to not keep anyone waiting. Being the suck up I was, I had been there 20 minutes early armed with tea and Danish’s for what was described as “the only team I will speak to whilst I’m here”. Admiring architecture was not something I indulged in but I could appreciate a nice building for a few seconds. The floor is what caught my eye, It was grey slate which was unexpected. I had anticipated white marble with light walls and an open space, the exact opposite is what I encountered and I quiet liked it. From exiting the lift I could see at the far end of the narrow corridor, a large wooden door with “Mr Montclairs” gold name plaque on the outside. Following back from that the corridor was littered with smaller offices with each space holding a  different department.  I would be in “foreign liaisons” dealing with complaints from other countries and communicating with other offices. One of my two special skills in life was knowing multitudes of different languages <em>the other being able to neck 10 shots of absinthe in a row and not die. </em></p>
<p>“Miss Brown, I presume” A slight, older woman approached me from one of the offices “I’m Tosh Ardington, were on the same team. Come, ill introduce you” she ushered me into the room where three others were already sat “this is Matilda Groves” she pointed to a tall, red headed woman. “Jameson Darcy” then to the curly haired man who was currently shouting at the printer.</p>
<p>“OUT, OUT DAMMED SPOT I SAY” He screamed at the machine, I think he was trying to be menacing towards the HP lazerjet. Trying and failing.</p>
<p>“One: two: why, then, 'tis time to do't.--Hell is murky!” I replied, recognising the attempt at a Lady Macbeth impersonation “not that I don’t love Shakespeare, but why are you quoting Macbeth to a printer?” my forehead creased in confusion</p>
<p>“the bloody things been on the fritz since last week, its putting blotches on all the paper and I certainly can’t give Mr. Montclair dodgy reports” horror flashed over his eyes, probably imagining all the ways he would be fired.</p>
<p>“Has anyone bothered to clean the drum unit, it probably has toner build up?” I enquired, apparently I was working with people with no knowledge of how to properly care for a baby HP. The looks of confusion confirmed my suspicions. “the reports – when does he need them by? Are the legible?”</p>
<p>“yes, you can read them – but he needs them now and he won’t like it” Tosh chimed in</p>
<p>“well, I’m not for murdering trees unnecessarily so a few splotchy bits of paper will do. Give me the reports, ill hand them to him. Then when I come back ill show you how to clean the drum unit”. Grabbing the wad of paper from a horrified Jameson I hurried along to Mr. Montclair’s office. I suppose I’m meant to be intimidated by my new boss but then again I grew up in South London, its everyone else that should be worried. Before I could even knock, I heard a barked command “come in”.</p>
<p>“Morning Mr. Montclair, I am Miss Sian Brown if you don’t recall. I’ve the reports you asked for from Jameson” I walked over to him, handing over the thick wad of paper, eyeing him as he flicked through the pages.</p>
<p>He sighed deeply, “if you think this is acceptable Mrs Brown, you wont last very long in my employment” he stated, smashing the paperwork back into my arms “fix it – or leave”. He had tried to turn his back on me, obviously being accustomed to getting his own way.</p>
<p>“this IS me fixing the best of the situation <em>sir. </em>These are your options  - take this paperwork now as it is or wait another hour for a second report to be printed <em>despite the fact this copy is perfectly readable.</em>” I tapped my toe in anticipation of a response, and when I realised he was not going to give one I pushed further “I have been here a mere 10 minutes and I already have the unsightly job of cleaning the drum unit in the printer – something a lady in a white shirt shouldn’t have to do. If it wasn’t for your inadequately trained staff there would be no issue” I smiled sweetly stepping closer to him “now take the report or don’t but you wont have another till I am done fixing the printer”</p>
<p>He looked at me for a few moments, his amber eyes burned into mine. His jaw was clenched and I was certain the words ‘leave my building an don’t return’ were to follow this evident rage but instead all he said was “give me them. And if it’s not fixed in half an hour I will dock your wages”.</p>
<p>I snorted, “you aren’t paying me, I’m an intern working for free. I expect the next time I do something that’s not part of my contract you will atleast try to remember that” I quickly tuned on my heel before he could reply, scurrying away back to the office.                   </p>
<p>The day went by fairly uneventful after I showed the team how to properly treat Polly. Oh, I named the printer – it was something my Nan did. She gave names to inanimate objects and I had picked the habit up a long time ago. I had bumped into my new boss a few times after our encounter in the office and not once did he say a word  - just a few huffs and scowls in my direction and seemingly that means I get to keep my job.</p>
<p>
  <em>Day one of trying not to fuck my boss or get fired can be considered a success. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sians POV: 3 weeks later </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“HELP! HELP” HEEEEELP” I Screamed at the top of my lungs, my panic becoming increasingly evident with each plea.</p>
<p>My sister burst through my door with impressive speed “What’s wrong! Who is it? let me at ‘em!”</p>
<p>Before I had a chance to ease her troubles, I burst into fits of laughter at the site presented before me. She was brandishing a toilet brush, still in her pyjamas and her hair standing up at all ends looked as if it had been electrocuted. <em>Eat your heart out, vogue. </em>“Oh – good god” I chocked out between laughter “that… that’s the best” I wiped a few tears “best morning ever” I took a few breathes to calm myself before standing straight.</p>
<p>“You were screaming! I thought someone was trying to attack you” she fumed</p>
<p>“what were you going to do? Ram the bog brush up their jacksy? Fucking proper shit knight in shining armour” I let a few giggles escape my lips again, still not quiet over what I had witnessed.</p>
<p>“why in Gods name were you screaming then? God don’t scare me like that” I think she might ram the brush up <em>my </em>jacksy in a moment</p>
<p>“weeeellll”  I started vaguely, earning a look of disapproval “I need to know if my dress looked better with my Louboutin sling backs or Kurt Geiger diamante mules. It’s REALLY important” I pouted in her direction, hoping this wasn’t the last interaction I would have with another human. <em>Would be a funny last memory though.</em></p>
<p>“I swear to all things living and dead” she scowled. In a blink of an eye she had sped around my side of the room and began furiously beating me with the brush. I squealed as she pummelled my rear with it and was trying to grab at my legs to flip me on my ass. As she grappled with my calf, I shimmied out of her grip and being the super ninja that I am I turned her around and tackled her to the floor. Whilst I had prime advantage I took this opportunity to best her; I wrapped my arms around her neck in a vice grip and locked my leg over her waist. <em>Bruce Lee aint got shit on me. </em></p>
<p>“GET OFF ME YOU BRUTE! ILL TELL NANA” She shrieked in between breathes of laughter “I WILL PEE ON YOUR TOOTHBRUSH YOU LITTLE RUNT”</p>
<p>“I will only let go IF you promise to call a truce” she tried to look up and glare at me but since I was holding her face she couldn’t. after a few moments she relented and agreed to call a truce.</p>
<p>
  <em>That lasted about as long as a Homer Simpson’s weight watchers diet. </em>
</p>
<p>Before I could wrangle my way out of the room out of her warpath, she shouted “ARE YOOUU READY TO RUMBBLLEEE” And launched towards her weapon that had rolled towards the landing. As I tried best to defend myself against the barbarian, I picked up the closest thing I could; hairspray. There we both were stood, in the middle of our landing like hand bags at dawn. My finger twitched towards the cap and hers gripped tighter at the brush. With one last death glare she pelted down the stairs and I sped after her. Tumbling into the front room I leaped into action and sprayed her straight on her bare legs. As she screeched at the cold sensation she took advantage of my closeness and batted me in the head the brush.</p>
<p>In the midst of World War Three, gran started hurtling pillows at us halting any further attacks. “NOW LADIES! As fun as this is, you both will be late for work. If either of you get fired ill have to put you out on the streets like stray dogs” giving us both looks of disconcert, we all looked at each other and exploded into bouts of laughter.</p>
<p>After much anticipation we agreed to abide by the rules of the truce: no fights before work. Must retain all aguish for evenings and weekends, permitting Kelly did not have any dance classes to teach. <em>Perfect.</em></p>
<p>            After the morning antics, I hurried to my desk, hoping no one would take much note of my tardiness. I had simply been 5 minutes over my start time which was unusual for me. I am an early bird, usually in 30 minutes early so I had hoped this transgression would be overlooked. I did hate being late and it was all because of a toilet brush, <em>how shit. </em>Before I could finishing typing and sending an email, I had a call to see Mr. Montclair in his office.</p>
<p>I knocked on his door and patiently waited until I heard him tell me to enter. Once I heard his welsh twang order me in, I peered around the door wearing the biggest smile I could muster. “Good morning Mr. Montclair, what is it I can help you with” closing the door behind me, I again awaited his response.</p>
<p>“I have had to let my receptionist go and require someone to help me sift through new applications. Seen as you have enough staff in your team to cover shortfalls I want you to filter the applications.” He stood up from his desk and passed me some large paper folders. He looked unusually stressed, and had seemingly ditched his blazer. He was wearing a shirt, waist coat and trousers and despite this adopted casual look, he still looked appetizing. <em>Would it cheer him up if I bit his bicep and licked his torso?</em></p>
<p>“Of course, Mr. Montclair. Anything else you require of me?” now, I am not an ass lick. Since the ‘take these reports or else’ debacle, he had spoken few words to me and had taken to handing me additional work. I did not mind taking on so many tasks this early on and hoped it would fair well in getting me onto the business ladder. <em>Okay I might be an ass lick.</em></p>
<p>“I don’t require anything else, other than tomorrow you be on time for work” oh dear god he noticed <em>how the fuck did he notice 5 minutes</em></p>
<p>“well sir – you see. Its not my fault its my sisters. She beat with a bog brush” D<em>on’t tell him that you buffoon! </em>His look of unwavering disinterest made me nervous “and well, also I am usually half an hour early and today well as I said I was brutally attacked” I attempted to justify myself</p>
<p>“Miss Brown, I don’t require you to be early but I do expect you to be on time. Earliness is just as inconvenient as lateness” he replied “and if you wish to submit a report to ChildLine, don’t use the office phone” <em>did he just make a joke? The fuck</em></p>
<p>Before I could even wrap my brain around this alternative personality where he cracked jokes, he had already opened his office door and shoved me out. <em>And the Crisis’ on Infinite Earths have been avoided.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sians POV:</p>
<p>I sighed in frustration, it has been three weeks and none of the perfectly acceptable candidates I had chosen to be Mr. Montclair’s new assistant had made his ridiculous specifications.</p>
<p>“listen, that young chap Frank Turner who worked for Barclays is a the best candidate. He has a good work ethic, comes highly recommended and is eager to start working for a new type of tyrant” I had just about gotten to the end of my tether; 33 interviews and not one he thought were acceptable? <em>This blokes got more issues then vogue</em></p>
<p>He scoffed in my direction “don’t be so utterly ridiculous, my assistant can’t be male. That’s preposterous” this look of utter disgust flushed over his face “No men. Not at all”</p>
<p>“well it IS the 21<sup>st</sup> century Mr. Montclair not the 1940’s. you CAN have a male assistant you know” I raised my eye brow at the sexist prick sat in front of me, currently flicking through the multitude of folders containing applicant information. I had been leaning over him for the past 30 minutes going through each folder and pointing out people I thought would at least last through to the New Year.</p>
<p>“Tyrant? Did you just call me a tyrant” his neck snapped so fast around that he was now inches from my face. Not backing down from him, I decided to push the egotistical prick abit to give him some of his own medicine. Someone needed too.</p>
<p>“Tyrant – you know a person exercising power or control in a cruel, unreasonable, arbitrary way. Sorry, was that word not in your capable remit?” I moved my hand further on the desk to trap him in his chair asserting what dominance I could over the situation</p>
<p>He tipped his head to the side slightly and not for one moment took his eyes off of me “if I were a tyrant, Miss Brown I would not have such insolence amongst my staff. Now, leave for your lunch and when you return to continue the sift you best hope I am in a forgiving mood” his stern face showed no signs of laughter or encouraged banter.</p>
<p>Being the professional I am, I did as told and began to leave. As I grabbed the handle of the door I whipped around, straightened my posture and held my left hand out in salute and said “Ja Mein Führer”. And with that, I exited the Axis Occupied office and swanned off to the Vichy kitchen.</p>
<p>Trotting off down the hallway, I could of sworn I heard the sound of glass smashing, but I couldn’t be sure. This had turned out to be a rather weird Tuesday.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Baldwins POV: 

</p><p>If it were the 1940s Miss sunshine and fucking rainbows would be earning her wages in more ways then one. <em>How very dare she compare me to Hitler. </em></p>
<p>Had she not of been such a value to me at this precise moment, it may have been her head I cracked open and not my glass coffee table. Not only was I to now deal with her impertinence there was the added task of cleaning up this table and the blood currently pooling from my hand. Why did she anger me so much?</p>
<p>
  <em>Maybe I should have a male assistant, far less annoying.</em>
</p>
<p>Time does move slowly as a vampire, not needing to breathe nor do much of anything human like impacts on time management sometimes. Without realising one moment you have been standing for a matter of seconds, then the next it has been half an hour and not even moved a muscle. <em>Should have improved that over the two millennia I suppose. </em></p>
<p>I heard someone clear their throat, and to my surprise it was little miss sunshine herself “Mr. Montclair – your hand. Its bleeding” she stared at me for a few seconds and then she turned and once again left. When she reappeared it was with rubbing alcohol, a cloth and what looked like plasters “Alpha males and their pride. Sit down before you cause any further unsightly damage to this office”</p>
<p>“There is no need to help, I can quiet cope on my own Miss Brown” pulling my hand from hers was futile as she further exerted pressure to keep my hand where it was. Of course I could rip my hand away in seconds, but I did not want to alarm her.</p>
<p>“Don’t be so silly, I could hardly let Mein Führer bleed to death could I” the corners of her lips tipped up into a smirk “who would bark orders at me then”</p>
<p>“As it is prominently evident that you adore being bossed around Miss Brown, I suggest that you split your time as you have done for weeks between my office and your own work. Not that I am asking” what was the point in finding a new assistant, when she was clearly capable balancing the work as is?</p>
<p>As she padded at the tiny, insignificant scratches on my knuckles I couldn’t help but study her. I could hear her heart beat thud against her chest, it was rhythmic, perfectly in harmony with her breathing. You didn’t need to have vampiric site to notice the scars on her face, they were quiet prominent against her skin. One clean cut through her eyebrow that stretched to just above the end of her eyelid and the other faintly smudged above her top lip. It did make me wonder what these were, who would have put them there. <em>I should have taken up on the male assistant suggestion. Dieu. </em> </p>
<p>“Well – I may consider that offer but I have one requirement first” she tested “I want a laptop of my own. A pink one”</p>
<p>I sighed at this request, woman and pink. What was the fascination? “if you insist. You can add a new coffee table to that as well, assistant” I stood up, retreating to my desk in a desperate attempt to get away from her</p>
<p>She stood, giving me an earnest look “you might need to have that looked at you know, could be some glass stuck. If you won’t let me soak it, you can at the very least look after yourself” <em>Since when was I susceptible to scolding’s from humans? </em></p>
<p>“ill be quiet alright I can assure you. Will you please have the cleaners sort this mess out” I wavered over the mess on my floor “and please, don’t ever call me Mein Führer again”</p>
<p>“Duly noted, you do not like to be referenced as Hitler. I will do my upmost to remember that, perhaps II Duce is more tolerable?” <em>II Duce!? What burning flames of hell does she wish to dance with</em></p>
<p>“Preferably, Miss Brown I would not take to being referred to as failed dictators whom did nothing but starve their subjects and disseminate hatred across nations” her few references to fascist leaders might be quiet concerning.</p>
<p>“we can debate this all day long II Duce, but I have some ordering to do” and there she left, bouncing off down the corridor.  <em>Louisa would have quiet liked her, despite her human disposition.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*II Duce, pronounced Eel Doochey, is in reference to what Italians referred to Mussolini – if that was not obvious 😊</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sians POV:</p>
<p>“So, your work load has doubled yet your pay is still non-existent. I never thought I would see the day I admit I am impressed by our boss, what a genius!” I rolled my eyes in protest at this comment from Matilda, ever the pessimist she was!</p>
<p>“You are such a ‘the glass is half empty’ bird! You my friend are a atmosphere vacuum!” in true F.R.I.E.D.S style, she pounded the sides of her fists together, imitating the way Ross gave the finger.</p>
<p>Sat in All Bar One, Saturday night with my new self-proclaimed best friend was my new favourite way to spend my evenings. Cocktail bars were my calling, second to dingy pubs. Not that I am a lesbian, but even I would take a double look at our table. We did look exceptionally buffting today; me in a figure hugging sparkly jumpsuit with my YSL heels and Matilda in her teal wrap dress. Even I would smash us!</p>
<p>“Anyway, being Montclair’s whore aside, more pressingly – where on earth has my sister gotten too?!” I wondered, she’d left the table atleast 20 minutes ago <em>swanning off in MY leather skirt might I add</em></p>
<p>“I am fairly sure that she gave the bloke at another table a nod before going to the loo. Probably on her knees getting our bill paid off” I snorted, Matilda probably isn’t wrong there</p>
<p>“you sicko that’s my sister! God I swear if she ruins my skirt ill disown her!” I scrunched my face in horror at the thoughts milling through my head of what those toilet walls must be seeing right now</p>
<p>“I can just picture it now” she started, motioning her hand to her mouth “Swirl - lick, OH you tickled my liver – gobble” perfectly imitating a cheeky blozza</p>
<p>Flinging the nearest thing I could at her, I ended up launching the passionfruit from my pornstar “GOD STOP! I already need therapy from catching her in action with various blokes, I don’t need you to deliver the Shakespeare play version” I grimaced</p>
<p>After I had managed to reconcile my disgust, I was finally able to get back to the task at hand; SHOTS! Having the waitress look at me in shock and awe at the immense lineup, I had to pat myself on the back at the task I had defeated; 7 shots of tequila and 2 Jäger bombs! <em>Impressive, right?</em></p>
<p>“it is quiet a day when you see your little sister damager her liver past unimaginable repair” Kelly shook her head and sighed “and where’s mine you cheeky fucker, all well and good to rinse my money and you can’t even order me a shot!” she beckoned the waitress and order another round.</p>
<p>“I had intended to order you something, but you were gone so long I was tempted to put a missing persons add out” I saw the approaching tray of shots and I think love hearts must of popped out my eyes</p>
<p>“well, on that. I have managed to bag us an after party, which if I’m honest a room full of cock beats spending an evening with you too cunts any day of the week. You remember Matthew Tarling and his lot from school, Pip?” she gestured to a table full of blokes, one of them winking in her direction  </p>
<p>“Ahhhh finish your shots then slags, looks like we are in for a treat” Matilda woot-wooted and downed her poison.</p>
<p>Usually I would be more then up for abit of freelance fun with some muscle, but why was I just not feeling it? Just as these doubtful thoughts crossed my mind, a Greek God and the rest of Matthews friends approached our table and I couldn’t but help stare at this gorgeous giant <em>id butter his filo pastry any day.  </em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sians POV:</p>
<p>“NO WAY DID YOU BECOME A POLICEMAN!” I Screamed at George, who I remembered to be a right little shit at school. They were all my sisters year. I remembered them fairly well, as much as I could seen as they were 3 years above me and youngers just didn’t mix with olders in my day.</p>
<p>“Yep – and I’m surprised that I have never had to arrest you. I definitely remember you being like the love child of Rambo and Ali at school” I snorted – he weren’t wrong. I was a feisty little cunt despite my height. Always getting into fights</p>
<p>“I will have you know that I joined a boxing club that helped me manage my inner zen” to prove the point, I pressed middle fingers to my thumbs and executed the best hum I could “see, total zen” </p>
<p>Currently I was sat at the kitchen island with the Greek Adonis (otherwise known as Jack), George, Tommy and Matilda. My sister had ventured off somewhere with Matthew and was probably thanking him for paying at All Bar One and his hospitality. <em>I’m so proud of her</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Are slugs homeless snails? Fuck I’m drunk</em>
</p>
<p>“so, youngest Brown sister – how old are you now exactly” the Greek Adonis plonked himself next to me, opening another bottle of Peroni</p>
<p>“Not old enough to get into the over 25’s area of The Venue, but old enough to know you are about to get shot down like Mr. John Lennon” I quipped back at the obvious move <em>why thy fuck was I not interested in him? Is my vagina broken? Heeellllloooooo foofie!! Wake uuuuppppp </em></p>
<p>He chuckled slightly, and I earned some ‘ooooooos’ from the other lads. “worth a try I guess, so who is your friend” he smirked</p>
<p>“Well thank fucking you for picking me to be second best you fuckslut” Matilda glowered “As if id fuck you anyway, too hairy for my liking” she poked her tongue out and clapped her hands together “now twat faces, shall we play a game or what?” she declared</p>
<p>“Alright Saw calm the fuck down” Tommy joked wagging his eyebrows “what about, a good old childhood favourite seen as we have bumped into old Friends – Spin the bottle” the lads eyes lit up</p>
<p>In unison, Matilda and I rolled our eyes but yet agreed to this terrible idea. Are we 12 or something? Could be fun though…</p>
<p>Matilda span the bottle and for the third time already it landed on me, <em>I have begun to feel slightly picked on by this bottle… </em></p>
<p>“okay slag, truth or dare” Matilda gave me a wicked smile</p>
<p>“Definitely truth – I don’t even want to know what sick things you would make me do if I chose dare” her wicked smile grew more <em>honestly I was screwed either way with this woman at the helm</em></p>
<p>“Hmm okay what is you favourite sex toy” the boys all shuffled in their seats in obvious anticipation of this answer</p>
<p>“Oh that’s easy - your mums fist up my ass. Good ol Deb!” her smirk dropped and she actually gagged <em>fuck you bitch</em></p>
<p>The boys were in fits of laughter, with the Greek Adonis giving me a high five and whispered in my ear ‘I could show you a better time love’. Now usually I would be all over that like a rash on a call girl but I really <em>really </em>couldn’t think of anything worse. <em>Am I a lesbian? MAYBE IM ASEXUAL</em></p>
<p>Before I had even a dicky birds <em>aahhaha dick</em> of a chance to reply, a ferocious chihuahua stormed through the door and starting barking at us <em>and by chihuahua I mean Matthews fucking wife. </em></p>
<p>“WHERE IS HE? ILL FUCKING KILL THE SLAG” Her face was enraged, eyes darting all over the place “FUCKING COME OUT TARLING WITH YOUR SKANK OR ILL FIND YOU I SWEAR”</p>
<p>I sighed, I really hope I don’t end up burying her. I’d hate to ruin my YSLs. As my inner thoughts raced around what the next events could hold, I had sobered up slightly. Maybe I was about to exercise my inner Rambo and Ali.</p>
<p>My sister and Matthew walked into the kitchen area with the most obvious bed hair that even Shaggy couldn’t of gotten away with <em>ahahah it wasn’t me. </em>At this sight the little chihuahua launched herself towards Kelly, her fist hurtling towards her face. Before I could recollect my zen I was already bounding into action ready to defend my sister as I had done my whole life. She was the dancer, I was the fighter.</p>
<p>The yappy little shit didn’t even get a scratch on Kelly’s face before I had connected a punch to her cheek. She looked ready to fight back, obviously not knowing she was tangoing with the devil herself. I continuously pummelled the bitch and then I blacked out with rage. I’m not overly sure the full extent of damage I had done, though I faintly remember being restrained by George the copper and pools of blood on the floor</p>
<p>
  <em>I hope my shoes are okay.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sians POV - Monday morning following</p>
<p>“Fuck Sian, I’ve never seen someone fight like that and you are so tiny” I was sat in my new office with Matilda necking what maybe my seventy fifth tea in two days. She was reeling over the events of Saturday night, filling me in on exactly what had happened as I could not overly remember. Apparently, after the first few punches from me, I tackled the bird to the floor and followed with a few swift stomps on the chihuahuas head and eventually George wrestled me off her. Then somehow I wriggled out of his grip, headbutted him and in Matilda’s words ‘clawed at him like an owl at its prey’. Luckily, according to Matilda there was far too much coke in the flat for the copper to call in the assault and I managed to escape a GBH charge <em>thank fuck for that.</em></p>
<p>I’m by no means proud of this, but even the most extensive anger management cannot stop me from protecting those I love. I had spent my younger years being bullied by my mum and I was sure as hell not putting up with It from other people, and definitely never seeing my sister get hurt. Not on your nelly!</p>
<p>“is the scratch on my face bad? Like can you tell I broke someone’s face two days ago?” I panicked, there was a slight pink scar scaling my cheek that now added to the other old ones on my face. Hopefully this one wouldn’t be as prominent as the others or I would start to look like the bride of chucky.</p>
<p>“It’s not that bad girlie but you need to keep out of fights before I rename you Tiffany” <em>this is why we were best friends, same humour! </em></p>
<p>“Miss Brown, I am need of assistance” I hear Mr. Montclair yell from his office, now adjacent to mine “NOW” More urgently he called</p>
<p>Since I had taken on extra work, he had moved me into the office that was closest to his, but still near to my other team so I could easily weave in and out of both areas. I had needed my own space since the incident where my staff sick meeting minutes had gotten muddled in with the over spends complaint slips from Shanghai <em>totally not my fault…</em></p>
<p>Walking to his office, I hadn’t even bothered to knock before entering. <em>Star employees don’t need to announce their presence. </em>As I boldly strolled in he raised one of his perfect eyebrows towards my boldness “you feel it unnecessary to knock Miss brown?” <em>can he read minds?</em></p>
<p>“well, I had thought the urgency in your voice had required immediate attention Mein Führer – plus, I am the star employee” I smiled sweetly after lowering my arm from the salute</p>
<p>If looks could kill, I would be rotting under the floor boards as we speak “I had thought we agreed to relent the references to Adolf and other merciless rulers?” he grumbled</p>
<p>“You asked, I distinctly remember stating that I would try. Made no promises to abide by said word though.” The look of murderous hatred crossed over his features and would of made most people quiver in fear. I however am an absolute delight whom he would not dare to upset.</p>
<p>He took a few visible deep breathes “I need you to accompany me to New York. I have opened another office there and need help interviewing the staff. I had a stand in manager sorting through most things but she has decided to selfishly have her baby earlier than anticipated. There are only a few positions left to fill and it would be quicker with help”</p>
<p>“New York? As in America? Big Ol’ Apple?” my heart raced at the prospect</p>
<p>“Yes – if it is an issue, I will not force this on you” if I had not of known better he may have looked disappointed</p>
<p>“ARE YOU SHTTING ME YOU THINK ID TURN NEW YORK DOWN OH MY LANTA” I screeched, excitement breaming on my face <em>im gonna shove so many hotdogs down my gullet</em></p>
<p>He laughed slightly at my over enthusiasm, and then his head cocked to the side with confusion washing over his features. He stood up from his desk, striding over to me and reached out to touch my face. As he did he gently wiped his thumb over my cheek “and where did this new scar come from, Miss Brown? Have you been fighting with an owl?”</p>
<p>I unconsciously began to bite my lip “it’s really nothing Mr. Montclair nothing happened well really at all” I stumbled over my words</p>
<p>“Well, if it is nothing then you wouldn’t care if I knew the story or not.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest “talk” he demanded</p>
<p>I sighed, resistance was futile. I explained what had happened, first by mentioning that I did not remember any of the events and that Matilda had informed me what I had done. I made a veiled attempt to insinuate she had exaggerated the whole thing but it seemed to fall on deaf ears. The whole time, he listened intently not speaking a word. “In my defence though, she was gunning for my sister I couldn’t possibly stand idly by could I? I know it’s probably difficult for a businessman - pen pusher like you to understand but growing up if you didn’t fight in my area you got beat. I just became extremely good at defending myself and my sister, simple as” it was my turn to cross my arms over my chest and look intimidating <em>except I looked like a petulant child and not intimidating like his built frame</em></p>
<p>He chuckled stepping closer to me, and despite wearing platforms I still had to still tilt my head up to look at him “if you think all I am is a pen pusher then you truly do not know anything of me Miss Brown” my breath hitched in my throat at this statement <em>why am I fucking tuned on? Da fuq</em></p>
<p>I gathered my pathetic-ness and put myself together like the woman I am “Well, maybe in New York we can go round for round in a boxing ring and ill put you on your ass, Mr. Montclair” I bantered</p>
<p>He plastered that cocky smirk over his face “as delightful as that sounds, Miss Brown I would not wish to embarrass you. We will be leaving for New York this evening if that suits you?”</p>
<p>This evening? God that’s quick! “How long will we be there for?”</p>
<p>“I imagine to be there no longer then four days so pack appropriately, it will be cold. I shall send a car for you. I suggest if you left now it will give you time to get affairs in order”</p>
<p>“ill bring my cosiest slippers” I brimmed, turning on my heels and headed back to my office not before hearing that baritone chuckle I had come accustomed to hearing in my daily life.</p>
<p>
  <em>NEW F U C K I N G YORK BABY</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Baldwins POV:</p>
<p>Furiously typing away on my laptops, scrawling over bits of paper and in between sending few texts I looked over at the state of my jet. Myself and Miss Brown had both been engrossed in various applications whilst inbound to New York. I had not encountered many people who kept with my quick paced working but she had managed to do so twofold. Spread across the many desks were various bits of paper ready for budding new employees. Whilst sifting through HR department applications she had also accepted various skype conferences with Shanghai. Although her Mandarin was quiet rusty, her attempts I am sure were appreciated by my co-manager there.</p>
<p>Stepping from the plane into the airport as usual was no issue for myself, customs workers in any city knew not to deny me entry. The little delinquent however had been rub down searched and had her bags checked after a hissy fit demanding she had the ‘full airport experience’. Who in their right mind <em>demanded </em>they were searched? What a monotonous notion. <em>Silly woman.</em></p>
<p>“what hotel are we staying in? can I order room service at obscene hours?” she broke the silence as we drove from the airport</p>
<p>“Mine – I own a share in a hotel chain. Citizen M. and yes, you can order whatever you like, whenever” her eyes lit up in excitement</p>
<p>“what about a rent boy at six AM to get the working day started” she wagged her eyebrows. Any amusement I may of mustered diminished as she suggested this, and wave of an emotion I could not pin point washed over me <em>it must be anger. </em>She noticed the change in my demeanour “Oh I was only joking Mr. Montclair, lighten up”</p>
<p>“I will not, and do not appreciate any sort of soliciting whilst I am under the same roof. Joke or no joke” I firmly told her “I would not be happy if my assistant caught something untoward” she snorted, <em>what an awfully unattractive laugh</em></p>
<p>As we arrived at the hotel I couldn’t help but regret my decision to bring her along. Not even three minutes out of the car and she had already infuriated me beyond belief. Insisting on getting not one, but three hotdogs from one of those street stands and then spending at least thirty seconds thanking the bell-hop for taking our luggage.</p>
<p>As we strolled past the abstract reception I immediately stepped to the elevator and sighed looking at my assistant. Ketchup smeared on her cheek and a face full of food. <em>Humans. </em>I did the decent thing and offered my handkerchief to wipe it clean, only to have my offer rejected as she insisted she was ‘saving the bit of tommy K for later’. <em>I am not even sure she is human anymore. </em></p>
<p>Reaching the top floor, which was reserved permanently for my use only I showed her around the luxurious suite. The living area was spacious, with reds, oranges and brown furniture in keeping with the hotels design. There were three rooms to choose from, two where at opposite ends of the living space closed off from the rest of the room and another up a small flight of stairs. Each room had their own bathroom, which may seem excessive but this pales in comparison to homes I have had in my lifetime. The main feature was the balcony, It stretched along the entire width of the building with glass doors running along the perimeter showing a full view of the city. It was quiet the site when you catch the sunset gleaming through the doors. For the moments that I showed her around she was entirely speechless and the peace was quiet welcomed. <em>And then she spoke.</em></p>
<p>“the night is still young, whatever shall I do with my first evening in New York?” we were stood on the balcony, despite the cold air she insisted on doing so</p>
<p>“since we have a six thirty start time Miss Brown, I do not suggest we do anything. You’ve been fed surely you should be put down for a nap about now?” I jested</p>
<p>“I will nap AFTER I have been to a bar” she challenged.</p>
<p>“Absolutely not, Miss Brown. Now choose one of the rooms on the first floor, mine is and has always been the top one and I do not wish to change my mind on that” I left her reeling on the balcony after hearing her faintly say ‘obnoxious cunt’.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sians POV: 

</p><p>In true nature of us seemingly acting like an old married couple, we had come to a compromise. <em>The hotel bar</em>. You can’t imagine the size of my smile when he relented. Surprisingly, his charm and whit extended out of office hours and thus far the evening had been quiet fun. I had changed out of my adorable pink suit into a pair of mum jeans, red heels and a white turtle neck top. Coupled with my biggest hoe earrings I looked cute, but not over the top you know? The jeans hugged the right amount of ass. You will all be very shocked, Mr Montclair was in a suit! Yes, shocking I know.</p>
<p>“Do you ever wear anything less than a three piece suit? Like I can’t even imagine what your wardrobe must have cost?” I smiled at the waiter who had brought over another round of drinks <em>this may or may not be our fifth round </em>an old fashioned for myself, and another red wine for Mr. Montclair.</p>
<p>“occasionally I do not wear a waist coat and if I am feeling adventurous I will ditch my blazer” <em>typical</em></p>
<p>“well I suppose Mein Führer should dress appropriately at all times” this time I refrained from saluting, wouldn’t want to make the rest of the guests think I was a right wing nut job. It was only a joke to clarify, there is not one ounce of my being that likes the fascist cunt for obvious reasons and I’m an not a sycophant, it just winds him up beautifully.</p>
<p>He stared at me for a few seconds before countering “well <em>Himmler </em>one day you may appreciate the fruits of hard work. For now though, you are merely my slave labourer”</p>
<p>“AS IF I would be Himmler! I am totally more Klaus Barbie! Blonde and ruthless!” he shook his head and chuckled</p>
<p>“Okay, <em>Klaus</em> it shall be then if you insist on referring to myself as Mein Führer. What is the obsession with high ranking Nazi officials? Should I be concerned” he queried</p>
<p>“Oh absolutely not! I just find history fascinating, especially dictators – the mindset of the time, the ability to convince whole nations of their agenda. Socialist leaders and Right Wing assholes just bemuse me how indoctrinated people were by it all”</p>
<p>“So, you over researched historical atrocities and decided, out of all of the choices, I was Hitler?” he looked mildly offended, aahhh good!</p>
<p>“Yes – you are one and the same. He does none of his own bidding and inspires everyone to do it for him. The only closeness Hitler came to killing someone himself was of course the night of the long knives, but really his hands were only dirtied by others carrying his hatred. Except you don’t order people to be murdered, just bring you paperwork and book meetings” his head shifted to the side, eyeing my carefully</p>
<p>“apart from fighting in World War I that is, yes it is unknown if he had killed anyone by his own hands. I would much wager he did mind you, but who am I to question the evident history buff at the table” I smiled in victory <em>such a clever little noodle aren’t I. </em>“Dictatorships aside, what else do you do in your spare time, other than awaiting my every beckon call?” I necked the remainder of my whisky and ordered another round <em>best rinse his tab whilst I can</em></p>
<p>“oh nothing. I wake each weekend waiting to hear your baritone voice bark orders at me. I sit alone in my room thinking of the Monday to come. I do love being bossed around” I leant closer to him twirling the ends of my hair in my fingers “where would I be without you, <em>sir” </em>his eyes bore into mine as I bit my lip <em>stop it right now you drunk slut he is your boss, you C A N N O T flirt with him</em></p>
<p>He grabbed my hand in his own, tucked a stray piece of my hair behind my ear and whispered in my ear “be careful what you wish for Miss Brown. You are stepping into murky waters” his lips faintly brushed against my neck as he spoke quietly, and it was enough to make me week. <em>Shit fuck cunt. </em>He moved away from me slightly, drinking the last of his wine “I suggest we retire for the evening. An early start will take it’s toll on you, I am sure” he suggested. <em>What a great fucking idea, lets go back to the apartment we both fucking share for the next four days.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Why did I agree to this?</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sians POV:</p>
<p>The walk to the lift and the ascent to the suite was painful. He had been close to me for all of three seconds and I think my vagina might have slid off my body. His touch was cold but it burned my skin none the less. I am glad this was real life and not an episode of True Blood because I’m sure a werewolf would have smelt what was going on in between my legs. As we approached the living room I attempted to put as much space between us as possible. I went to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine, he began walking to his room.</p>
<p>Before he left he turned to me “Tomorrow there will be ten interviews, I will take majority of them in hopes before midday. The first is at seven. I will hope you are fit tomorrow for the task ahead” he accused, eyeing the glass of Merlot I had poured myself.</p>
<p>“yes, yes. My Nana always said that our blood was wine and not actual blood. To be fair it wouldn’t matter as much, I came out the womb addicted to heroin anyway” <em>oh yes, this is the perfect time to divulge a story about my crackhead mother. Wanker</em></p>
<p>“Excuse me? did I hear you correct?” he moved to leave the stairs and came over to me with a look of slight concern <em>so much for that distance</em></p>
<p>“Nothing – sorry it was a joke. My therapist says I make silly jokes to cope with stuff. Except they are never funny” <em>DON’T TELL HIM YOU GO TO A THERAPIST </em>oh dear God I should of stayed home</p>
<p>“therapist?” he questioned “whatever secrets you have, <em>Klaus</em> make sure you do speak to someone. I’m not much good listening seen as I’m too busy furthering my agenda” he cocked a slight smile and pushed no further <em>Thank all the lords </em>“goodnight, Babrie”. And with that he left again. <em>That was close.</em></p>
<p>Entering my room I couldn’t help but notice how unnecessarily large it was. The massive bed was surrounded by space, with the mirrored wardrobe extending the length of the room. It was fairly plain but quiet lovely since the view looked out onto the bustling street. I closed the blinds and retired to the bed for the evening.</p>
<p>After a lame attempt to sleep I huffed. I know it is inappropriate, not only to ‘self-relieve’ whilst in the company of someone you are not entangled with, but to do it whilst your boss sleeps in the room above? <em>It’s not like he would be able to hear my moans anyway. He will never know!</em></p>
<p>Knowing I would not get any sleep until I had dealt with the deed, I slipped out of the constraints of my sleep wear and began to work. The cool air hit me as I laid naked on the bed, the drop in temperature reminded me of <em>his </em>touch. Trailing my finger down from my stomach to my naval I gently circled my sensitive bud. My hips rocked as I quickened the pace and to prevent it being over so soon I relented from my caressing and began to rub the slick walls. As I felt a come down I worked again to build up speed and I could feel the bubbling heat in my lower stomach. I tried at best to stifle any moans, only letting a few escape. I bucked my hips in anticipation of the finish ahead, and then I let out one last gasp as I felt my relief wash over me.</p>
<p>I laid in slight shame at that – my sister might have been right in saying I should have been named Cha Cha after the bird in Grease. <em>The best dancer at Saint Bernadette’s? Yeah, with the worst reputation. </em></p>
<p>I could have stopped there in all honestly. Instead I proceeded to give the pillow a good doing over and another round of “round and round the lady garden”. <em>Ah blistering flames of hell, swallow me whole into Dante’s Inferno. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Baldwins POV: </p>
<p>Will hell hath mercy on my black soul? If seeing her in tight jeans that accentuated her curves weren’t already enough that evening I had the <em>unfortunate delight </em>of hearing her all night long. I had hoped she would stop after the first time but then her moans slipped through my ears two other times that night. Vampire hearing, coupled with not needing to sleep will be the death of me I swear it. I had not intended to pry, but with the walls being as thin as they are and with my heighted hearing there was no avoiding those whimpers echoing around the room.</p>
<p>In light of this, it became apparent that I was not infact a 2000 year old man, but a 14 year old boy unable to control himself. If it was not for my immaculate restraint I would have marched into her room and demanded her to halt the assault as to prevent any further hardening on my part. Instead, I took a cold <em>very cold </em>shower and then turned my attention to Borgen. Nothing like political dramas to kill a mood.</p>
<p>The morning following had been quiet dull compared to night before. I had interviewed six of the ten applicants and had not yet hated all of them. I am sure I will come to that conclusion, but they were surprisingly well established, palatable applicants. All of which Miss Brown had selected from the files I had given her. <em>Terrific.</em></p>
<p>“When is the next interview due? I have a conference call with Mr Miyagi this afternoon” she shuffled in her seat crossing those tantalizing legs over each other</p>
<p>“The next candidate will be here from two. Although, the six you selected and I interviewed this morning would cover short falls. I was, ever so slightly, impressed with them”</p>
<p>“I know I have fantastic taste in staff, but it will be worth interviewing the rest. There is no logic in taking on a restricted team you may as well interview everyone and have a full remit” leaning back in her chair she kicked her heels off and tucked her feet under herself and yawned. <em>Someone didn’t sleep well</em></p>
<p>“you did not sleep well, Klaus?” I of course knew why she was tired but it would not hurt to exploit her weakness</p>
<p>“No, not particularly” for once it was her looking annoyed “apologies Sir, I’ve never travelled anywhere before didn’t realise how bad jet lag was”</p>
<p>“Your parents never took you on holidays?” <em>peculiar</em>   </p>
<p>“Not really the traditional family to be honest” she had a sad smile, and for some odd reason I felt…hungry? Maybe happy? I <em>cannot</em> be feeling empathy, it is <strong><em><span class="u">not</span></em></strong> <strong><em><span class="u">possible</span></em></strong>.</p>
<p>“we have over an hour until the next candidate is here, you can do as you wish in that time. I might suggest though refraining from a nap. It will only make sleeping worse” she nodded, leaving me to get on answering other emails. <em>I have been ignoring Domenico for six weeks, perhaps I should at least bother to leave him on read. </em></p>
<p>I sighed, the Venetian scrote had been rambling on about an online daemon forum where some young enthusiastic daemons had planned to set the world alight with new ideas. <em>Honestly</em>, <em>Does anyone care? </em>One thing for all of that; ctrl + shift, mass delete. Emails can be considered, conquered.</p>
<p>After quite some time, a little before the next interview I sauntered off to find my assistant. Once I located her to one of the unused offices, I sighed. I know I am a quiet the know it all – full of myself occasionally but if anyone bothered to simply obey me, life would be smooth. There she was, having not listened to my advice in the slightest, slumped over one of the desks dribble pooling out of her mouth and hair completely wild. Deciding against my better judgement, I simply left her to whatever dream she seemed to be having.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sians POV:</p>
<p>
  <em>‘Daaadddyy’ I squealed as he lifted me into the air, blowing raspberries on my belly. The sun shone brighter that day, beaming through the patio doors creating a kaleidoscope of colours on the floor.  ‘Pu me dooww’ I kicked my little legs as much as I could, trying to get away from the tickle monsters grasp ‘daadyyss gonna get ya, daaaddys gonna get and tickle you all day long’ he continued his attack and I squirmed, squeaked and kicked until super nanny come to the res- </em>
</p>
<p>Before I could finish the dream, that bittersweet memory, I was interrupted by my phone’s incessant ringing. Immediately recognising the ‘November rain’ ring tone, I knew it was Pop. Bit of an odd one I know, but we had memorised every lyric to that before we had even been potty trained.</p>
<p>“<em>Hey Pop</em>” it’s not even been two days and I miss home.  </p>
<p>“<em>How are you?! I miss yooooouuu! You can’t leave me like this again</em>” She cried down the phone.   “<em>only a few more days and I will be back – I miss you and nana too!. Now, you disturbed my sleep – so unless there was anything else you wet drip I am hanging up</em>” I threatened  </p>
<p>“<em>no that’s all</em>” I could practically hear her pout down the phone and faintly heard my nana shout ‘LOVE YOU’ before I hung up the phone.</p>
<p>Looking at myself and my surroundings it became abundantly clear I was not where I had nodded off, in fact I was in the hotel room. Still in my work clothes I changed into more comfy wear and left my room in a bid to find Mr. Montclair. Aimlessly walking around I found myself in an empty apartment <em>well this is not fun. </em>I plonked myself on the sofa, flicking on the telly. Luckily, I had just caught the middle of Borgen, it was a new series and so far season one had been quiet good.</p>
<p>Having spent so much time with him, it was weird he was not here now. A vague text sent 10 minutes ago gave me the inkling that he had not been long, but the “gone for food” message did not give much to go on. As the lazy person I am, I sat and waited till he came back in the hopes he would of bought me something to eat.</p>
<p>20 minutes he was gone for and I was ready to gnaw my own foot off. Unfortunately for my inconsolable appetite he had not come back baring many gifts – blue steak for him and mixed Chow Mein with spring rolls for me . “I had almost taken to eating the sofa had you not of come back so soon” we had moved over to the kitchen island as he insisted ‘if I got food on his sofa id be scrubbing it off’</p>
<p>“I almost considered leaving you to starve, but thought better of it. Don’t want to have to call this trip early I do need staff here” <em>well how ever so kind of him. </em>I kept flittering my eyes to his plate, fairly curious about the pretty much alive steak that I could of sworn had a heartbeat. “Keep staring at my food Klaus and it will run off the plate and find its way to yours” he joked “make you abit squeamish, does it? Raw meat?” his trademark smirk gleaming over his features</p>
<p>“no, actually was just curious. My nan is a pescatarian, and usually I am. Never had a good steak – the only time I remember trying it was when she tried to cook one. Needless to say 20 minutes on each side is no good look for a cow” I almost puked at the memory, my foot actually would have tasted better</p>
<p>Honestly I have never seen a man look so horrified, in an instant he had cut a piece up and had jammed it in my direction. Hesitantly I leant over and ate the piece of meat off his fork. The moan that left my lips was too quick to quash it “oh sweet heavenly Jesus that’s the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth” and as soon as that statement left my lips, my face went redder then his plate.</p>
<p>I think he just growled? I know I’m not the most sane person but I’m sure of it. He took a heavy breath “murky waters Sian, murky” if his eyes could turn dark, and this was some sort of fanfiction they would be as black as the midnight sky. Of course, this is real life and other then ‘pink eye’ things like that don’t happen to eyes.</p>
<p>Deciding not to press the topic we ate in silence before moving back to the comfort of the sofa. I was sat on the L part of the sofa, he was perched on the other end swirling the wine in his glass. Sipping gratefully at the steaming mug of Yorkshire tea (yes, I packed my own tea bags. Sue me.) I picked needlessly at the fringe on the throw.</p>
<p>“Sian, can I ask you something” I darted my eyes away from the fringe, nodding my head “the scars on your face; are they all from fighting?” he titled his head, like he always does when he is curious. A habit I noticed he does quiet regularly</p>
<p>I chewed at the inner of my lip, not sure if I should divulge the information or not. Noticing my indifference he spoke softly “you do not have to tell me, nor will I speak of it again if you wish to do so. I am merely curious”</p>
<p>Post my inner debate, I decided to give some half-truths “my dad was in the army, when he would get deployed my mum – she became someone <em>something</em> else. When my dad weren’t there she would fall apart and take it out on me” that was putting it mildly.</p>
<p>I could not tell the look on his face what emotion it held, and before he had even a slight chance to respond I moved the topic onto something else “so, exactly how old are you? I’m guessing mid to late fifties, but possibly older?” my grin grew as his face fell</p>
<p>“mid-thirties, thankyou very much” he tried to maintain his stern face, but I could see a smile cracking</p>
<p>And then it dawned on me… “WAIT hold on, time out – how did I even get here? I fell asleep at the main office?!” quickly realising that I had in fact seemingly managed to float a few blocks over</p>
<p>“I threw you over my shoulder like the damsel in distress you are and took you back here. Needless to say, you missed the rest of the interviews and the video conference with Mr Miyagi” he shook his head “It truly is a wonder why I brought you here”</p>
<p>“I am beginning to question that myself, honestly” I began to fiddle with the fringe on the throw again as a pang of self-doubt washed over me, maybe I should have stayed home</p>
<p>
  <em>Maybe I should leave</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Baldwins POV: </p>
<p>“Sian” without conscious thinking I reached over, tucking the annoying strand of hair that had made its great escape from the rest. Her gaze met mine “that was an utter joke. I brought you here, above anyone else because in the few short months you have been in my employment you have quite impressed me. The mere fact the Mr Miyagi has taken a liking to you proves your worth as much. It’s an added bonus I suppose you are not so completely terrible to have In company” that ridiculous smile crept it’s way onto her face and I most certainly will never hear the end of this misguided compliment.</p>
<p>“AAAWWWW YOOUU WOVE ME” She brimmed, she leant her hand up and pinched my fucking cheeks like a child. <em>We shall not be having any of that behaviour.</em></p>
<p>Snatching her wrist from my face I pinned it and her other hand above her head so I was outstretched over her. “not that this admission gives you the audacity to speak to me in anyway you wish, Miss Brown. I do expect a modicum of respect from my employees” having her pinned to the sofa, my knee perched in between her legs that were tucked under the blanket was <em>interesting</em></p>
<p>Despite this newly caged position, she remained unfazed “and how many of your employees do you take to New York on an all expense paid trip, buy them drinks and dinner the pin them to the sofa?” her challenging eyes met mine</p>
<p>As I leant closer, her scent got stronger <em>cinnamon, rose and saffron. </em>A smell once past forgotten in the depths of my long life. Once the air was full of scents <em>per fumum</em>, in the days of the Empire these notes passed through the air ‘by means of smoke’. Having been of a <em>respectable </em>class I was surrounded by these aromas constantly, sweet saffron being of particular liking.</p>
<p>
  <em>Forget all of that and get back to the task at hand.</em>
</p>
<p>“Touché mademoiselle, point well established” I relented from my position and returned to my post at the far reach of the sofa. No matter how far I went I knew I would not be free of her scent for quiet some time. “Tomorrow we have the remaining interviews, however I am fairly adamant I will not like any of them comparative to today’s applicants”</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes “are you just saying that because you feel the need to at least dislike <em>some</em> of them to keep up this weird façade you have?”</p>
<p>“What on earth are you insinuating, <em>façade?</em>” I avoided the question for now, this allegation taking precedence</p>
<p>“You know – big, scary boss all brooding and mysterious. You really are just all front I think. Probably frustrated – OOOOOHHHH maybe MAYBE” she giggled, not quiet being able to finish the sentence without the look of enlightenment on her face “you are so angry all the time because you are in the closet. I ALWAYS WANTED A GAY BEST FRIEND” <em>her scent will be mixed with blood in a moment</em></p>
<p>Not withstanding this futile attempt to get an outward reaction I simply ignored the delinquent. I gave her a side stare, already formulating the conversation in my head. I knew one way only to ensure a victory on my part. I removed the quilted throw from her and resumed my earlier positioning, pinning her to the sofa, only this time I could feel her bare legs brush against my trouser leg. “Miss Brown” I leant in closer to her ear “I can assure you much to every males disappointment I do not partake in such activities” her breath hitched in her throat “And may I also enlighten you to the simple fact the walls of this hotel are poorly designed and very thin. The next time you feel the need to relieve yourself under my roof please ensure I am not here. Or at the very least be courteous enough to put music on to scupper any noises” </p>
<p>I have never seen anyone turn so brightly red before, her cheeks flushed the darkest rouge imaginable and her mouth was slightly gaped in shock. What is it the youth of today say? Don’t hate the player, hate the game. I gave one last smirk before retreating to my room.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sians POV:</p>
<p>The only way to describe the last day of New York was in the great words of Rachael Green ‘kick you in the crotch and spit on your neck fantastic’. Never in my life have I ever been so horny but embarrassed at the same time. I <em>wanted </em>to smash my head off the coffee table when he admitted to hearing my through the walls, but I also wanted him to be the reason I smashed my head. I should seriously reconsider my position with the company before I end up on Jezza Kyle.</p>
<p>
  <em>Could consider a lot of positions…</em>
</p>
<p>Milling through the last of the job prospects, he had decide to hire the first 10 applicants I had chosen, and 6 from the second lot of interviews. All together he had more then enough staff to ensure his business would run as effectively as London and his other offices.</p>
<p>Hoping to ignore him for the flight home, I had opted to take phone calls from Barcelona. I had been avoiding one of the team members there as she had become an increasing pain in my ass and more recently had insisted on liaising with Mr. Montclair despite this issue not needing his attention.</p>
<p>“¿Cómo puedo ayudarle, Señorita García.” I made every effort to sound polite and interested</p>
<p>“Tengo que hablar con Baldwin” she demanded and I scoffed <em>Baldwin? </em></p>
<p>“Como le he informado enteriormente, Señor Montclair no necesita hablarle” she attempted to disagree with this notion and after some quiet blasphemous language on her end I could not bite my tongue anymore</p>
<p>“Escucha, no repetiré esto. Dejará de contactar esta empresa o me encargaré de que nunca vuelva a trabajar en esta industria” with one final dismissal of any rudeness on her part, I hung up the phone.</p>
<p>“Trouble in Spain, Miss Brown” he finally spoke, this was hour four of the flight and this was the first time we had spoken, other then at the office about the new staff.</p>
<p>“Nothing I cannot and am not already handling. She resigned some months ago but is insistent that we owe her liability damage for a fall. I have already looked into the claim and forwarded the litigation on, but she is hell bent on your opinion on the matter” my head felt like it may explode, honestly she was getting her pay out, what more does she want?</p>
<p>“This wouldn’t by any chance be Miss Selena García, would it?” not even managing to meet his gaze, I nodded, looking out at the scenery outside. One thing that always surprised me was his ability to remember and know practically everyone who worked for him, even down to the cleaning ladies.</p>
<p>He sighed “She was always a pain. The Gods really did not sing in my favour when employing that one” he grumbled.</p>
<p>And there it was again, that awkward silence. I am not sure what’s wrong with me, I wasn’t fussed when I got caught ontop of the desk in art class being thoroughly destroyed by my classmate in sixth form, so why did I care that he could hear me? <em>Maybe it’s because you were thinking about him the whole time</em></p>
<p>“Well, this trip went about as well as an anti-religion march through the Vatican” he tried to lighten the mood, <em>it may have worked.</em></p>
<p>“it was FINE until you ear spied on me, Sir” I crossed my arms defiantly</p>
<p>“Spying would entail stealthiness on my behalf, I did not need to eavesdrop at all. I’m sure the whole building heard you at some stage” good God my face couldn’t have been redder</p>
<p>In retaliation, I did the only sensible thing I could think of. I launched my nice pink laptop in his direction and persisted to calling him every name under the sun. Much to my dismay and slight shock, he caught the laptop before it could hit him.</p>
<p>Walking over to me, he was waving his handkerchief like a white flag of surrender and plonked down next to me “Will it help lessen the embarrassment if I divulged my own embarrassing story? I do not want there to be awkwardness between us, I would not be pleased to have to replace another assistant.” I contemplated this offer, and without much further thought I immediately responded with a big ol’ yes!</p>
<p>He chuckled at my excitement and began spinning the tale “I was seeing this woman. She was married, but unhappily as they always seem to be once they are introduced to me” he smirked, cocky twat “anyway, we were committing the indecent act in her stables, not the best place in hindsight but her children’s family home seemed more disrespectful. There we were mid rump and her husband comes into the barn. Before I could say stop drop and roll she flung us to the ground, knocking us into the pile of hay and shit in the corner” a small giggle erupted at this, the thought of him covered in excrement was amusing “it was all fun and games until I ran home covered in horse manure and my brother continued to nickname me scat man”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Scat man, oh dear lord I think I might if laughed the whole way home at that. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Translations:</p>
<p>“How can I help you, Miss Garcia?.” I made every effort to sound polite and interested</p>
<p>“I need to speak to Baldwin” she demanded and I scoffed Baldwin?</p>
<p>“As I have informed you previously, Mr. Montclair does not need to speak to you” she attempted to disagree with this notion and after some quiet blasphemous language on her end I could not bite my tongue anymore</p>
<p>“Listen, I'm not going to repeat myself. You will stop contacting this company or I will ensure you never work in this industry again” with one final dismissal of any rudeness on her part, I hung up the phone</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>apparently i suck at keeping up with my own timelines. apologies!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sian’s POV: (some time after?????)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“WE LIKE TO DRINK WITH TOSH COS TOSH IS OUR MATE, AND WHEN WE DRINK WITH TOSH SHE GETS IT DOWN IN 8…..7….6….5…” We all chanted, and before we could get to 1 she had finished her pint. <em>My hero</em></p>
<p>“THAT WAS TOTALLY WICKED!!” I screamed in awe of my colleague. A whole pint, in less then 8 seconds. <em>Did I mention she was my hero?!</em></p>
<p>Currently sat at our favourite table we were celebrating Christmas early (seen as it was only mid December) in the upmost classiest fashion, decked head to toe in Christmas attire on a sticky grimy table in the Pommelers. <em>Lovely jubbly!</em></p>
<p>“I still cannot believe you convinced Mr. Montclair to let us move to his New York offices, like my mind IS BLOWN” to exaggerate the point, he feigned a bursting noise curling his hands outwards into an explosion. “Like its our absolute DREAM and I am so fucking excited” Jameson and Tosh had now been offered positions in New York and were due to leave at the start of February.</p>
<p>“I had no convincing to do on my part, I just opened his eyes to your potential and he agreed it was the best move. Plus, it’s Mr Montclair as if he would do something he didn’t want to do” it was true, no matter my opinion he wouldn’t have offered them the posts if he didn’t see fit to do so</p>
<p>“Oh P U H LEEEZE that man is every definition of whipped by you” making a whipping noise to evidence the claim, tosh continued “he stares at you in every meeting, makes any excuse to talk to you. I’ve worked for him long enough to know when he’s sniffing around abit of skirt”</p>
<p>I placed my hand over my heart acting offended “<em>JUST </em>abit of skirt? How very dare you insinuate such things you hag! I will have you know that lying is a punishable offence” I threatened jestingly</p>
<p>“Anyone can see the chemistry you tool, and what are you gonna do about it if I was lying? Bite my knee caps” <em>oh its on like donkey kong</em></p>
<p>“Worse – ill swirly you in the bogs after I’ve dropped one out” Tosh’s face grimaced, whilst Jamesons was wiping away tears of laughter. <em>I’ll miss these nob heads. </em>In utter shock, Matilda picked her head up from the table, wiped the dribble from her mouth and uttered “wonder what that would smell like” and her head smashed against the table again as he fell back to sleep</p>
<p>“Oh dear god she’s an utter state – best we get her home before she dies” Matilda was the lightweight out of the group, I don’t think she even had 3 double vodkas before falling asleep. “ill bring her back to mine, come on kiddies, home time!” after a few groans and a defiant ‘I don’t want to leave yet’ from Tosh, we dragged Matilda’s lifeless body out of the pub and bundled her in the cab. Before ‘Dave the Super Uber’ could speed away I shouted back at the two losers who were retreating in the distance “DON’T PLOW HER DOORS TOO HARD JAMESON, SHES GOT A BOARD MEETING TOMORROW” and to that I was flipped off by them both. <em>Feelin the love lads, feelin the love.</em></p>
<p>          By morning, the sun was chirping and the birds were bright. <em>Oh wait, that’s not quite right. And who the hell is smashing my head against a wall?</em> <em>is that Mozart? Who the fuck is playing Mozart at 6am</em>? “tun I soff” I heard a faint grumble come from the foot of the bed. <em>Did I smash last night?</em> I came to the realisation it was just in fact Matilda and not some male company “Siiiaaaannnn turn soff” she lamented. As I fully opened my eyes I realised, it was in fact the incessant alarm that was playing Mozart. My rude awakening was followed by some urgently needed stretches and groans. Dragging her Royal Highness out of bed we got dressed (her having to borrow my clothing, even some underwear) we bundled down the stairs to the kitchen.</p>
<p>“Well look what the cat dragged in, two trolls!” my gran chirped “sit down, ill make some tea and you can tell me all about the night. I hope there were some dishy men involved” she started milling around the kitchen, humming under her breath. I loved our family dynamic.  It wasn’t the nuclear household but it was full of laughter, love and joy. After my dad died our mums illegal habits got worse so nan got custody of me and Kelly. She’s abit of a hippie and still even in her late 60’s enjoys a cheeky large glass of wine mid-week. <em>Legend. </em></p>
<p>“Unfortunately for my vagina, there were no men last night nan. Did half consider jumping Matilda’s bones but she passed out AGAIN after 3 vodkas” she punched me in the arm at this remark</p>
<p>“Fuck off you lesbian! as IF you would know what to do with me anyway” she scoffed “AND in my defence they were doubles” she pouted, even my nan was aware how pathetic of a drinker she was</p>
<p>“Honey, 3 doubles is still embarrassing – you might aswell drink mocktails and have done with it!” Gran served another point <em>2 – nil to Nanna Brown!</em></p>
<p>“As fun as this is, we should be getting to work. If I miss the deadline today Mr. Montclair will slit my throat and use my blood for ink in his fountain pen” necking the scolding tea like a true Brit, myself and Matilda headed out the door ready for the day. <em>Can’t wait to work for the next eight and a half hours with a half dead team and a raging headache. </em></p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Baldwins POV:</p>
<p>I sighed as I looked at the states in front of me, the  ‘foreign liaisons’ team were all asleep in the their office during lunch break. <em>Typical humans, no alcohol tolerance. </em></p>
<p>I slammed some paperwork down on their desks “if you would all like to nap, I strongly suggest a different career path” they all jumped to attention, Mr Darcy shot up out of his seat, panicked.  Everyone was now looking at me, all except Miss Brown who just opened one eye and turned her head slightly to me.</p>
<p>“if I were in my working hours I’d be concerned that I was caught napping, but since this is my time I am going to go back to dreaming about my candyfloss house” did she just ignore me? Me? <em>if I was ever to abuse my position on the Congregation to get away with murder, it would be now. </em></p>
<p>“actions consequences Miss Brown, keep frequenting abysmal public houses on a work night you’ll quickly adopt the reputation of the office alcoholic” I pushed the paperwork over to her position on the table and threw a pen in her direction “now get up, I have a meeting in 5 minutes and I need you to take the minutes”</p>
<p>She peaked at me again, only this time she looked thoughtfully over at her colleagues. She chewed at her bottom lip and began to tap her nails on the desk “well, if I were concerned that I would be sacked, I might be inclined to hop right up out of my seat but we all know I’m too good for that. Unfair dismissal that would be” she smirked “imagine the money id rinse from litigation. I will see you in the boardroom in five minutes, <em>Sir</em>” her eyes met mine, challenging any words that may come from my lips</p>
<p>“I cannot fire you, that is correct. But I can put you on performance monitoring for your attitude Miss Brown and then fire you when it does not improve. And I think my team would be better equipped to deal with any unlawful claims” it was my turn to smirk “Now. MOVE” She jumped at the sudden rise in my voice and this time stood up and walked my way with slight shock moving over her features. <em>And the world is right again.</em></p>
<p>She much put me in mind of my Step-Mother at times – her small frame gave the illusion of being powerless but she was anything but. I don’t care much for humans or other creatures (nor am I admitting to caring for this one in particular) but in a very short time she has impressed me. She has done more than required of her work and mostly without complaint. I’<em>d still chop her head off though.</em></p>
<p>As we walked silently to the boardroom I couldn’t help but chuckle when I noticed how many little steps it took her to keep up with mine. She was almost a foot shorter then I without heeled shoes on and it truly showed when we walked side by side. Not that I did anything to slow down to make it easier for her.</p>
<p>“Might have to invest in a Segway to keep up Mr. Montclair, don’t think my little legs were made to chase after you” she quipped “what’s this meeting about anyway, do we have to fire anyone?” her face lit up with joy at the prospect.</p>
<p>“Quiet possibly no one, Miss Brown” she jutted her lip into a pout, I sighed “and potentially everyone” I quipped. At this admission, she jumped up and down clapping her hands.  </p>
<p>In that meeting I couldn’t help but look over at her every so often, she spent the entire time transfixed on her notepad ferociously annotating every word spoken. She took no notice of my sly glances and I am glad – I would not have heard the end of it. Her audacity to challenge everything I do was troubling. On a few occasions she knew when she had overstepped the mark and had retracted her comments, but it remained a concern to me why a human felt comfortable testing my authority <em>and why on Earth I had let her do so. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>SIAN’S POV:</p>
<p>“AN OVERSIGHT?!” He screamed “A £30,000 DESCREPNCY IN REPORTING STATISTICS IS NOT AN OVERSIGHT YOU IMBECILE. WHY I EMPLOY SUCH DISSATISFACTORY STAFF IS BEYONF ME” He fumed. I kept writing, everything he had said. This had become a new task of mine – minuting all meetings and ensuring I monitor any language used. And by monitor I mean take out anything remotely insulting which had been 70% of this meeting.  </p>
<p>As he was berating the staff I couldn’t help but notice how powerful he was. I had never taken much notice of those who shout, verbal aggression does not bother me in the slightest but I couldn’t help notice the strength that radiated off him in waves when he was disciplining staff. <em>Oh, god what’s wrong with me? he’s screaming at staff and here I am practically sliding off my chair In excitement!</em></p>
<p>“well after that disappointment I strongly suggested you all leave and find new jobs” he seethed “now get out.” He pointed towards the door where a cluster of staff hanging their heads low retreated too</p>
<p>“you aren’t actually firing your whole financial advisory team are you? Because I really don’t know enough about budgeting to fix that department” I joked, hoping he would find the funny side and not send me to the doll office along with the others.</p>
<p>“no, unfortunately not. I’m in no mood to fill out paperwork” he turned to me, no humour on his face “WHAT is that unsightly mess on your arm?” he moved around the boardroom over to me and grabbed my arm so he could see the full extent of the tattoo.</p>
<p>“it’s a tattoo Mr. Montclair. If it’s an issue ill remember to wear longer sleeves to cover it” I anxiously chewed my lip <em>why did I have to get a tattoo of a pygmy goat what a dickhead. Couldn’t have chosen a fucking lion could I?!</em></p>
<p>He stared at it in confusion for what felt like a lifetime, then a slight smile appeared on his lips “Of course you would not have gotten something like a lion, it had to be a farm animal” he chuckled at his own joke <em>aww cute we made the same joke. Besties. </em></p>
<p>“everyone knows farm animals are superior over zoo animals!” I defended my decision “And, look at his face isn’t Timmy adorable?” <em>oh god shut up you nob don’t tell him you NAMED the fucking tattoo oh he’s going to ship me off to an asylum. Probably owns his own. </em></p>
<p>“Timmy? You named the tattoo” I faintly nodded at this, and before we could converse or explain my lunacy he just left. Walked right out the boardroom and left me in there. <em>God I’m a fucking idiot, id sack me.</em></p>
<p>                 “So how was the meeting, did he axe anyone?” Matilda enquired from her desk</p>
<p>“Nope! They might have another week of work left in them if they manage to sort the discrepancy. Though, I don’t think ill be here any longer. Might get shipped off to an asylum” I was giving them a debrief of the meeting like I always do, leaving out any boring parts for them and recited the real juicy stuff – you know, who he called a wanker, who got sacked and if he decapitated anyone. The REAL information.</p>
<p>“well, its probably for the best. You make John Wayne Gacy look sane” and with that comment, Matilda had the office in fits of laughter. Jameson was slapping his leg not being able to breath stating ‘oh god YES!’. <em>I’m so bullied.</em></p>
<p>“listen, if anyone was making John Wayne Gacy look sane, it’s Mr. Montclair himself. That man doesn’t need to dress up as a clown and chop people’s heads off to be sectioned” I had half expected the laughter to increase, instead they had quietened down and stared over my shoulder. <em>Oh God. </em>“He’s stood behind me isn’t he?” they slowly nodded in response and I turned around, meeting face to face with a stone wall <em>otherwise known and Mr. Montclairs chest.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Sians POV: </em>
</p>
<p>“Sir, is there by any chance you heard none of the conversation?” I smiled sweetly at him.</p>
<p>“You were speaking so loudly I would have heard you three streets over, Miss Brown” he countered “Get your coat and your things and be quick about it. I don’t like to be kept waiting.” He demanded</p>
<p>As confused as I was by this request, I did not feel the usual game of verbal tennis between myself and Mr. Montclair was required in this moment, especially since I had referred to him as a serial killer nonce. I simply flung on my coat, grabbed my personal affects and followed him out the office. <em>Probably to my death. </em>After a few tense moments of walking, we entered into the lift where he selected the ground floor, and this time I waited until I was spoken to rather than making a sharp quip or small talk. If I was being led to my death, maybe my silence would make him do it quickly. <em>One can hope.</em></p>
<p>As we exited the lower floors to the ground level carpark he ushered me towards a Silver Bentley. Opening the door on the passenger side he told me to get in. <em>maybe he was taking me to a nice scenic park to murder me in.</em> “you are awfully quiet, don’t you wish to know where I am taking you, Sian?”</p>
<p>“well, I had thought that being quiet would make you less inclined to torture me before killing” I joked, earning a sidewards glare from him. As we drove I began to wonder where he’d take me – as now I <em>was </em>growing concerned for my safety.  </p>
<p>“If I intended on killing you I certainly would not be taking you to your death in my Bentley. Far too nice of a car to have the upholstery ruined by blood” he remarked</p>
<p>“Well Mr. Montclair it is only a 6 litre Continental GT, I wouldn’t get so hyped about it. It’s by far not the most supreme Bentley or car there is on the market. Plus, it’s not even a city car so why on Earth you want to drive around London in it is beyond me” I did love cars but the impracticality of driving them in London made it pointless to own one.</p>
<p>“So you think you are an expert in cars now? First in printers, then dictators, now cars? What next – Football?” his faint smirk reappeared on his lips “And, seen as we are no longer in a professional setting, please call me Baldwin”</p>
<p>“My dad used to take me and my sister to driving courses and show rooms when we were little. I think he was making up for the fact he had no Sons to do any of it with.” A sad smile spread across my lips at the various memories of us as young girls playing rough like we were boys. <em>My heart ached at how much I missed him </em></p>
<p>“and we ALL know <em>Baldwin</em>, that Rugby is far superior to football. They are real men – thick thighs, cauliflower ears, God what’s not to love?” I let out a soft sigh as I thought about a cheeky scrum – God I really do love Rugby. It truly is a game for the ladies</p>
<p>“So you call me a paedophile serial killer, yet here you are fantasying over grown men playing sport. Pot kettle, is it not?” As he said this we turned a sharp corner and up onto a dirt road. <em>Since when did London have a dirt road?</em></p>
<p>My confusion became less apparent as I realised where he had taken me. SPITALFIELDS CITY FARM I MIGHT WEE.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Baldwins POV: </p>
<p>The reaction I got I would not have expected from anyone normal, but Sian was… different. After exiting the car she spent about three minutes jumping up and down giggling like a small child. I think I may live to regret this decision.</p>
<p>“OH MY GOOD BLOODY GOD” She cheered “But wait, I don’t have any wellies I CANT GO ON THE FARM WITHOUT WELLIES THEY WONT LET ME IN” I thought she may cry as the sheer panic fled over her face.</p>
<p>“That has all been arranged, Sian. Follow me.” I ushered her towards the personnel building where I had spare clothing waiting for her and I to change into. <em>Couldn’t possibly get my suit dirty now could I. </em>“We wouldn’t want princess Sian ruining her expensive shoes” I humoured her panic</p>
<p>“Says the man in pristinely polished brogues and a thousand pound suit” she jested</p>
<p>I scoffed at the insinuation “It’s about four times the price of what you suggested, I’m not a pauper” thousand pounds <em>maybe in 1400’s, how dare she. </em>Her eyes would have bulged out of her head if it were possible at this remark and I heard her faintly say “rich prick” under her breathe.</p>
<p>There was a squeamish looking boy stood in the foyer of the hut shuffling his feet, anxiously awaiting our arrival. He handed over the key to the cabin and quickly scurried away before he could have any interaction with us. <em>At least I have a minicom of respect from other humans.</em></p>
<p>“in the back office there should be some clothing and boots for you to wear. I have arranged for the farm be closed for this afternoon so there is no real need to rush. But I strongly advise it before I get bored and leave you stranded” I warned. I had taken her here as a thanks for the work she does for me, and in gratefulness that she has done it outside of her contract and as an unpaid intern. It was not often I was grateful, nor showed any inkling that I was, but she was becoming a valuable asset to my business and I did not want her to feel like she could take a job elsewhere. <em>Yes, that’s exactly what it was – I did not want my opposition to poach her from me. it was all business tactics keeping her happy. No other reason. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sian POV:</p>
<p>Excitement does not do my emotions justice right now, A FUCKIN FARM I GOT TO PET GOATS. Walking around the small holding I fed the chickens, pet the pigs and was absolutely smothered in Goats when we went to their pen. ‘Baldwin’ did not partake too much in the activities, but he did take a liking to the horses. Not only did I get to do all of this, but the place was empty spare a few members of staff who kept out of our way. He had arranged for it to be my own little playground. When I first came out of the back room after changing, I couldn’t help appreciate him in clothing other then a suit. He was in a pair of dark jeans, grey top and a bomber jacket. <em>That fucking jacket on those arms should be illegal. </em>He even made his timberlands look sexy. <em>Jesus Christ I need a good session.</em></p>
<p>We spent the afternoon milling around, and I often dragged him back to the goat pen despite his fervent insistence on moving along. “Baldwin, why did you bring me here? I’m not complaining at all, just curious” I enquired between feeding a goat a carrot.</p>
<p>“To say thankyou. It’s a rare occasion I am impressed by an employee and by someone so young. Your hard work has not gone unnoticed. Now, if you were to fix your attitude, you maybe the perfect employee”  I was shocked at this reply, everyone spent their time in fear of this man – what was there to fear? His ginger-ness?</p>
<p>“oh piss off, you love my banter. Its part of my charming personality” I flipped my hair over my shoulders and pursed my lips into an over exaggerated pout. He breathed a light laugh and shook his head at me.</p>
<p>           Once I was ready to leave we took the short walk back to the cabins to collect our items and changed. Seen as we were back in our work attire, I had half expected him to drive us back to work so I could make up for the lost time, however he just drove me home. <em>This will be interesting to explain to my sister and grandmother who would most likely see me stepping from his car.  </em></p>
<p>Without even thinking, I leant over and placed a small friendly kiss on his check. “thankyou for today, I very much enjoyed it. So much so I had almost forgotten that I’m currently not paid to be your personal bitch”</p>
<p>He looked amused at this, cleared his throat “once you are finished with your six month intern contract, we can look at a more permanent arrangement. A paid one, at that”</p>
<p>“AWWWW are you saying you want to keep me around?” I chortled, fluttering my lashes</p>
<p>“Possibly, now get out of my car before you cheapen the feel of my Bentley” I slapped his arm in protest to his rude comment, huffed and shimmied out the vehicle. <em>Not</em> before I could get the last word in</p>
<p>“Maybe I should work for Sir Allen Sugar, he drives a Royce” I stuck my tongue out, slammed the door and mounted the steps to my home. </p>
<p>Before I could get the key in the lock, my sister dragged me inside, threw me up against the door and shouted “tell me EVERYTHING you filthy animal”</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh she had no idea how accurate that was. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sian’s POV:</p>
<p>“Well – so basically” I stumbled over my words <em>what the daffy duck is wrong with me?</em></p>
<p>“out with it child or ill slap it out of you” my Grandmother goaded as she filled our wine glasses up, nothing like a Tempranillo Rioja to finish a day off</p>
<p>“nothing happened like what you all think – he just took me to the city farm as a thank you for the work I have done. Since most of it is out of my contract and I’m unpaid I think he was trying to butter me up so I stay with his company, honestly” the looks of curiosity I received at this admission really would have killed the cat</p>
<p>“so – Baldwin Montclair, the rich bachelor decided to take his young, beautiful intern first to New York on a business trip and now to a farm <em>as a thankyou” </em>Kelly spat “sorry, but that’s bullshit. After all that man has done to - ” before she could finish gran cut her off <em>what is it with her today? She is weirder then normal!</em></p>
<p>“well, maybe a leopard really can change their spots. You never know, our little Pip could become the next Mrs. Montclair” she glared at Kelly, whilst I almost spat my wine everywhere in complete shock of that revelation</p>
<p>As I cackled I manage to choke out “Mrs….Montclair. Don’t make me cry Nanny. Listen Pop – I know you don’t like the idea of me fiddling my fanny with any man in town, but trust me when I say I have no intention of letting my boss fiddle anything. Ever.” That’s my nickname for her – Pop. I was pip, she was Pop; greatly named by our dad after the Otters from Bear in the Big Blue House.</p>
<p>“I promise you, it was just a genuine thankyou from him. Nothing more, nothing less” Kelly look so unconvinced, but my nan had the biggest Cheshire grin on her face. “and what are YOU smiling at, you hippie” I poked</p>
<p>“everything is falling into place my little loves” she engulfed us in a huge bear hug and pulled us both onto the sofa, with us three all toppling over each other. Wine spilt, pillows flew everywhere but there was no fuss around it either. Pure love and laughter filled the room that evening. I did love our little family.</p>
<p>
  <em>And what the hell was falling into place? I need to find her bong before she becomes the new Snoop Dog. </em>
</p>
<p>          Waking up the next morning never felt so good, IT WAS FRI-YAAAAY BITCHES. Well, it could have been better but my sister and gran were currently crushing me since we all fell asleep on the sofa. Trying to edge my way out from underneath the Elephants I jimmied out of the gap I was in successfully. Standing up I arched my back and circled my shoulders in a veiled attempt to stretch out any kinks in my posture. Before attempting to mount the stair way to hell to get ready for my day ahead, I put a blanket over the sleeping beauties. <em>Such beauties when they weren’t running their mouths.</em></p>
<p>My sister was the complete opposite of me. I had taken much after our putrid mother and she our beloved father in our appearances. She was about 5ft 10 and towered over me but it just added to her beauty. Her hair was as black as night where as mine was the colour of gold. We wouldn’t look much of a relation but in our personalities we were the same. Even under a large fluffy blanket you could see every muscle twitch from her, she was as lean as they come for a ballet dancer; she had the perfect form for it. Watching her performances as a child was one of my favourite things to do, and now seeing her teach a younger generation of little dancers I couldn’t be more proud to be her sister. <em>Estoy viviendo la buena vida.</em></p>
<p>I never imagined myself as a kid being one of those girls who wore heels everywhere. I was a tom boy, playing rugby and getting into fights as a teen, but then I discovered Louboutin’s and have never looked back. I might be little, but between Rugby and some boxing I was quiet fierce when it was required of me. As per being the complete opposite of my sister who was by every definition lean, I was quiet stocky. I had been jealous of her once upon a time, having huge thighs and ass to match was not considered elegant or beautiful  but I have learnt to love the lot I’d been given.</p>
<p>Once I had my armour on and battle makeup smeared on my face, I marched out of the house ready for my day to begin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kelly’s POV: </p>
<p>“We can’t let her carry on working for HIM! HE is the reason daemons can’t congregate! We aren’t meant to live like this – secluded from our own kind nan!” I fumed, HOW could she be so okay with this? It hurt me so much knowing my sister was working for the devil incarnate himself and she was being so blasé about it all.</p>
<p>“Sweetheart, you don’t need to lecture me about the congregation and it’s rulings I am well aware. But she is happy, and enjoying something for the first time since your father -” she couldn’t finish the sentence, she always chocked up thinking about our dad. Losing her son and having to take us on couldn’t have been an easy choice. “it’s not a about us, she is human and doesn’t live buy our rules you know this” she sympathised</p>
<p>“But nanna, this man is not someone to be cautious around. He’s a ruthless murder and should not be treated any less than!” if it were my last breathe I would spend it protecting my sister <em>from him.</em></p>
<p>“she IS human Pop, it may have been a mistake on my part to keep our world; us being daemons from her but as time went on it seemed less important. The things that had gone on in your lives, with your mother– filling your childhood with love and uncomplicated surroundings was your father and I’s only task. If working for Mr. Montclair makes her happy – it makes her happy. It is no different then you working with a witch teaching ballet honey” <em>okay </em>so she makes a good point.</p>
<p>“it is SO different – I get along with Susan well enough but we don’t go to farms and NEY YORK together. Its wrong!” I crossed my arms in agitation, how was she not seeing the red flags here?</p>
<p>“Well, aren’t you part of some online forum now with other daemons? You ARE connecting, you are part of the newer generation where things will change” she sighed “I know it’s frustrating but trust me, trust <em>my</em> judgement”</p>
<p>I grumbled at her logic, it was so difficult to be angry with her. She had this aura of calmness that emanated from her enabling anyone in the room to lessen their anguish. I think that was her hippie side, rather than the daemonic one.</p>
<p>“things won’t change when bigots like Baldwin De Clairmont are still on the congregation” I could feel my blood boiling again.</p>
<p>“listen, I understand that this is difficult for you too, but trust me when I say there are so many greater things at play, all of this silliness will become insignificant” he deep eyes held much knowledge, and there was information she never shared. <em>Secretive bitch.</em></p>
<p>I never fully comprehended how I came out a demon but my sister did not. My grandmother and father were of the same kind as me but she was not. Unfortunately, she had taken after our mother and was a human. Not that this mattered to me, creature or not she was wonderful in her own way and I loved her for it. My sister that is, not my mother. <em>If anything our mother was the fucking devil, not Baldwin. Selfish bitch.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Translations: I am living the good life</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Baldwins POV: </p>
<p>This was completely, utterly preposterously ridiculous. And by this, I’m referring to the dishevelled man sat in my car. And further by this, that dishevelled man is me.</p>
<p>Driving home from <em>her </em>house I sat in the car for, well I’m not entirely sure how long for. Her sweet scent lingered stronger then it should have been and for longer then I wished it had. The curve of her hips, the sway in her walk and those legs. Short but strong – fierce.</p>
<p>
  <em>Merde</em>
</p>
<p>Knowing I needed a release I had decided to frequent one of the more exclusive clubs in London with the entertainment being of the female persuasion. The Box was an outlandish 1920’s inspired lounge, that when you know the right people <em>or are the right people </em>have entry into the back lounge where vampires can enjoy the fruits of warmbloods.</p>
<p>Not particularly illegal, not completely anyway.</p>
<p>
  <em>Well</em>
</p>
<p>Dead blood from an animal just simply was not going to meet the needs this week. I needed clarity and time away to recollect myself and readjust these silly notions towards <em>her</em>. Striding past the huddled humans waiting outside to get entry, I was greeted by the owner.</p>
<p>“Baldwin, its so good to see you” she placed a chased kiss on my cheek “what will my favourite vampire be requiring tonight” her voice was husky, trailing her hands over my chest.</p>
<p>“Nothing from you” her face fell slightly “anything but a blonde. Preferably tall” <em>anything that did not resemble her </em>I thought. Her face was mixed with confusion and slight annoyance. Past dalliances with her had been some what agreeable however she was blonde and not what I needed.</p>
<p>Despite her blatant annoyance she led me up the winding stairs away from the main crowd. Not needing to spend more than a mere five minutes in the open I could sense the creatures mixing with humans. Atop of the stairs was a smaller corridor that led to the other bar. It was completely empty, as expected. Most of those who come up here do not desire alcohol to drink. Coming close to the back rooms, she handed me a key with ‘number 7’ on it and waltzed away. Navigating to the chosen room, I entered the empty space. It was decorated with red and black décor that juxtaposed to the lightness of the club. It had sofas and a large four poster bed all tying in with the rest of the room perfectly.</p>
<p>Places like this had always existed, and being a De Clairmont had additional perks when entering them. New Orleans in the 20’s had been quiet exciting, Jazz Clubs had the air of virtue but that was a mere façade covering the underbelly nightlife. As my thoughts drifted to that time, I was interrupted by a slender, tall red head entering the room. She was scarcely dressed with only a lace bra, garter belt and stockings on with a see through gown barely covering her. Usually such sight of skin would be intriguing but alas this overshow did not to much to impress this night.</p>
<p>“Mr. Montclair, I presume” she strutted over to me, shaking off her dressing gown messily onto the floor. Not intending to engage in much conversation I took her hips and pulled her onto my lap. Gripping at her sides I pulled her in closer, moving her hair away from her neck. I pursed my lips to her throat, feeling the vein pulse under the touch. Sinking my teeth in, the warm liquid flowed through my mouth, her soft moans filling my ears. Pulling back before I took too much, I used a small prick of my own blood to heal the wounds.</p>
<p>“sir, is that all you require from me?” she reached under my jacket, pulling my blazer from my shoulders “or would you like abit more fun before leaving” she began rocking her hips against me</p>
<p>“what do you intend on?” I trailed my finger down to her naval, only to be stopped by her. She removed herself from my lap, unbuckling my belt and pulled back her hair kneeling infront of me. she puckered her lips, licking the tip before fully committing to the act. After more than long enough of her swirling and sucking to get me in the mood, I knotted her hair around my knuckles pulling her head back. Hoisting her onto the ottoman I plunged into the depths, pushing for it to end as I felt the tightening in my stomach.</p>
<p>Being the gentlemen I am, I poured her a drink before leaving. I had retired back to the sofa, whilst she was perched on the bed. She lifted her drink in my direction “well, Mr. Montclair, that was an eventful evening”</p>
<p>Not even sweetheart, it wasn’t the best I ever had and nowhere close “I did not catch your name?” I questioned. Often they gave fake names, but it was at least decent to ask seen as I had given no thought for her pleasure only my own. I could at least put a name to the face.</p>
<p>“Not many clients ask for that honestly” she breathed a laugh “it’s Sian” she smiled, but my face dropped.</p>
<p>
  <em>Good god give me fucking strength. I’ve been good the past few decades, why torment me now? </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Inspiration came from the song Reno by Bruce Springsteen...deffo recommend a listen!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sept-Tours for Christmas</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Baldwins POV: </p>
<p>The visit to the club had at first offered some solace, but after discovering the womans name was Sian my head was entirely compromised by thoughts of <em>my</em> Sian. In the last attempt to rid myself of her smell and the thoughts that raged through my mind, I had boarded my plane to France. The comfort of Sept-Tours and Marthe’s wit might alleviate this…these <em>feelings. </em></p>
<p>Not having announced my arrival, nor feeling the need to since it was my property I did not even give the courtesy of declaring my arrival before going hunting. I am sure a stag coupled with a chase would further her from my mind.</p>
<p>Prowling the usual under growth, I had tracked and chased a few hares and foxes but not killing them. I could have easily taken their life but it was a game – I was chasing the each animal and having it submit to my will before letting it go. Ysabeau would have a fit after all if I ate her favourite meals wastefully. Once given up on the chase, I ran for miles leaving the grounds of my home in search for a stag. My keen senses alerted me to a near by heartbeat, thudding against the confines of skin. The scent filled my nose and as it made pace to escape me I wrangled the beast by its antlers snapping its neck. Sinking my teeth in I could taste the morsel of testosterone left in it’s blood, engulfing my senses I was reinvigorated by its warm blood.</p>
<p>Making slow tracks towards my home, my mind wondered to the two woman whom would be receiving me. Although my step-mother and I rarely saw eye to eye, there was a bond between us. Phillipe’s death had wrecked us both unimaginably and after seeing her avenge his death in ways I could not my respect grew furthermore and we had developed somewhat of a relationship. Marthe, strangely enough had always been one of the few family members I cherished. In keeping of good manners despite my surprise arrival I made way for Sept-Tours with some hares in tow.</p>
<p>Entering through the main foyer everything was different but also much the same. As it was nearing Christmas the expectation from all of our family was to be here, at least for a few days over the holidays. I anticipated I would be forced into an extended stay by Marthe and in all honesty, the change in scenery would suit me well.</p>
<p>“My boy!” Marthe cooed, engulfing me in a hug “and what gifts have you bought for me?” he eyes lit up at the hares</p>
<p>“Perhaps Marthe, he thought the gift of Hares would much make up for his ill manners. Honestly, Baldwin I know this is your home but a simple ‘hello’ before you ransack the grounds would be appreciated” Ysabeau scolded from her position on the table.</p>
<p>“what an honour this is, Ysabeau has dropped the financial times just to berate me” I placed my hand over my heart “I am truly grateful for this honour. I will endeavour to remember to announce my presence on <em>my </em>property that I allow you to frequent” she growled in response</p>
<p>“Christmas is not for another two weeks, you usually appear Christmas eve at seven and leave by ten the next morning. Are you about to break tradition” she began to flick through the paper again, with Marthe briefly leaving to put the hares in the kitchen</p>
<p>“I thought I would delight everyone with an extended stay. By everyone of course I refer to Marthe alone, as she is the only tolerable vampire in this family” I took up residence at the further end of the table, Marthe returning with bourdeax</p>
<p>“why on earth my Phillipe ever turned you confuses me to this day” if it weren’t beneath her, she would roll her eyes at my every presence</p>
<p>“I think he admired the way Baldwin would decapitate a man in battle then bed his wife after that had truly wooed Phillipe” Marthe quipped, earning a unison of laughter from myself and Ysabeau</p>
<p>Ysabeau smiled fondly and sighed “you are most likely correct my dear friend”</p>
<p>
  <em>War, Women and Wine – those truly were the best days.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p> </p>
<p>One whole week and then the peace had been ruined. Family started to arrive from the beginning of Christmas week and I had been reminded why I avoid this as much as possible. Matthew the streaky piece of piss did not require to speak in my presence and I had already imagined every way possible to torture him.</p>
<p>Gallowglass, the whimpering mess he is baffled me. Myself and Godfrey had been insistent he was of the homosexual persuasion during the 1600’s after having never taken much to women at some point in that time period, but he doesn’t even appear to keep male company. He surely has not gone four centuries not laying with anyone. <em>Choquant.</em></p>
<p>Verin, Ernst and Fernando spent much of their time trailing around Matthews footsteps, eager to remain out of my way. As usual I suspect they would make their grand escape Christmas Eve. Freyja and Stasia although some may not think them agreeable proved as always to be more palatable then others in the room. If it were not for them and my daughter Miyako I might have had Matthew flogged by this point.</p>
<p>Miyako – I am not by any means a doting father, nor would I ever compare to Phillipe in that role but I was proud to have been her maker.</p>
<p>And yes, Marcus is here but not worth any mention. <em>Its only Marcus for Christ sake. </em></p>
<p>“I give it three more hours before Baldwin and Matthew end up in a scuffle” Stasia snorted</p>
<p>“Three hours? More like three minutes” Freyja countered “what ARE you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be skulking around business men making them quiver in your presence?”</p>
<p>“I had business in the area, was not worth the great wrath of Marthe if I had left early” Might be a small, white lie</p>
<p>Miyako shook her head “one day you will attend one of these gatherings for no other reason then to be present and not some monotonous business meeting”</p>
<p>Before any counter on my part, Freyja continued “Miyako, sweetheart he IS happy to be here” she gestured to my face, pointing “look it’s his happy face”</p>
<p>Stasia and Miyako both looking baffled, my daughter spoke “strangely enough it looks exactly like his ‘I am tolerating you but secretly plotting your murder’ face”</p>
<p>“oh please, they are so very different!” I think Freyja is most very merry, she is far too cocky for my liking “want to know how I can tell?”</p>
<p>I chuckled “reveal your great knowledge, sister”</p>
<p>“Matthew has no broken ribs and no one has died” she brimmed</p>
<p>I snaked my hand over her shoulders, taking a slight grip of her neck so she could not move. Leaning down so she could hear me I whispered but just loud enough for everyone to hear “<em>yet”.</em></p>
<p>“Stop threatening your sister, do not make me angry at Christmas, Baldwin!” Marthe warned from her side of the room</p>
<p>I turned to her, emptying the glass of wine for Dutch courage “I was merely ending what she had started”</p>
<p>Even with great vampire speed I could not miss the lamp that was launched at my head</p>
<p>
  <em>Christmas is always interesting.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sians POV:</p>
<p>Mean while in the Brown household..........</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“CHRIISSTTMMAASS TIMME MISTLE TOOOEE AND WIINE” I chorused along with Kelly and Cliff</p>
<p>“CHHILLDREEN SINGING BUMP N GRIND” Kelly sang, changing the lyrics. It had been a lot funnier since I was currently on my second bottle of wine before 2pm</p>
<p>Our neighbours despised us at Christmas, three binge drinkers screaming Christmas songs at the top of our lungs and the music blaring. Couldn’t really get much worse for them than that. <em>Except the year Mrs. Tomas called the police on us. Fucking wench.</em></p>
<p>We were merrily bopping around the kitchen, party hats on (my nan having two either side of her head like devil horns) wine in hand and decked in Christmas clothing. We had every year all matched and this Christmas was no different; Rudolph onesies.</p>
<p>“Good god I’m so fucking excited for prawn cocktail MAKES MY CHRISTMAAS” she shook her hands in excitement “I know it’s the same every year but fuck a duck the seafood sauce makes me warm on the inside”</p>
<p>“you, my dear sweet Pop are so very weird” my nanna piped up</p>
<p>“Ah yes, but all the best people are!” Kelly chimed, and then what can only be described as the best Christmas song came on WHAM! Last Christmas</p>
<p>In unison, we all picked up a fake microphone; I had the wine bottle, Nan with the wooden spoon and Kelly had the toy Mr. Hanky from south park “LAAST CHRISTMAS I GAVE YOU MY HEAARRTTT”</p>
<p>At this rate we won’t even make it to prawn cocktails.</p>
<p>After much sorrow, we pulled ourselves away from singing and managed to sit down for a somewhat respectable dinner. Following a traditional prawn cocktail, we delved into the main event; Christmas dinner! Seen as we were all (most of the time) pescatarian, our dinner consisted of a cheeky Linda McCartney cheese and leek plait, veggie stuffing, roast totties carrots and parsnips, yorkie puds and a massive dollop of cranberry sauce. This was all topped off with the chonkiest home made red wine onion gravy, courtesy of my dear nanna.</p>
<p>There was an absolute mess everywhere, mulled wine stains on the table cloth, streamers flung on every crevice, cranberry sauce in places you don’t want to know about and mountains of dishes to be washed. <em>Fucking love Christmas. </em></p>
<p>“I’ll tell you something for free, I would deffo let Matt Smith in my box” I slurred, as we sat down to watch the Doctor Who Christmas special</p>
<p>“No no no no NO!” Kelly argued “the one true salty potato of Doctor who will always be captain Jack. John Barrowman, J E S U S” She fluttered her hands over her face</p>
<p>“oh I did fancy abit of The Brigadier in my day – moustaches drove me crazy”</p>
<p>In unison, my sister and I gagged “THE BRIGADIER” I fake puked “HE LOOKS LIKE A BACON BONCE” Kelly screamed</p>
<p>“how DARE you insult him like that!” my nan feigned offence “I bet he would rock my world” she wagged her eyebrows</p>
<p>Annnnddd que more fake puke</p>
<p>After a moments silence for mine and my sisters trauma, we all muttered at the same time “But David Tennant” and we all sighed in contentedness.</p>
<p>
  <em>I’d let him keep his sand shoes on</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>--------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>What is afoot boxing day you ask? </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“NO TWIST”….”NOW BOP IT”….”FUCKING PULL IT YOU NOB” I screamed at Matilda as she was losing, she and I were on a team with my sister and nanna on the other. Matilda and her mother had come round for boxing day, continuing on the festivities. Boxing day was the time of games, wine and cheeseboards. <em>Can you hear my excitement?</em></p>
<p>“I CANT WORK UNDER THIS PRESSURE” She screamed, flipping the handset to the floor she huffed and plonked down next to her mother “I HATE bop it!”</p>
<p>“oh you child! YOU MADE US LOOSE! I NEVER LOOSE!” I cried, my lip trembling at the failure of my best friend</p>
<p>“oh hush up you nob it’s fucking bop-it, not the Olympics for Christ sake” she launched a pillow at me</p>
<p>“PERHAPS” my nanna interjected “we should eat, I think the children are restless” Deb and Nanna chuckled, busying with themselves with knives and forks setting up the table. Matilda and her mum had brought over some venison, rabbit and fruits whilst we supplied the wine, fish, crackers and cheese. It really was a perfect spread! Well, minus the venison that I wont eat infront of my nanna, none the less it was delicious!</p>
<p>Before Matilda could reach the table, I yanked her by the arm towards me so no-one could hear us “if you let me down like that again tilly ill sew you up down there like a proper Barbie!” I eyed her in anguish</p>
<p>“And if you EVER sew me up so I can’t have sex ill put my fist up your bottom” she gave the same, hard stare back.</p>
<p>It was all of ten seconds before we had busted out laughing and snorting at the ridiculousness of ourselves. <em>Top wankers.</em></p>
<p>Sitting down at the grazing table it did look wonderfully presented, the seafood had been separated from the meats, the fruit scattered about and crackers plopped at every corner of the table. Chutneys and marmalades to accompany the fine cheeses and the array of wines filled the last open bits of space. Mindful chatter fille the air, laughing at jokes made and stories being told. My nan divulged a tale that implicated her virtue, one that I do not wish to repeat – but ill give you no more detail then ‘it ended with her squirting in his face, and his dad walked in’. <em>I need to see my child therapist again.</em></p>
<p>Further to this embarrassment, the bitch got out the family albums! No, not the ones of us going to prom and looking adorable, or our first days at school but the horrendous ones – first diarrhoea nappy explosion, face in food, awkward teenage puberty stages. There was even a photo of us, fallen asleep on the loo whilst Kelly pissed in the sink <em>asleep. Charming.</em></p>
<p>“Oh god!” Deb practically cried laughing at my expense “What a chubby thing you were” looking at a photo of me, but naked baby covered in my own shit.</p>
<p>“RIGHT!”I Shouted, yanking away all of the photos “that’s enough of my baby vagina for one night! I say we play poker so I can thrash all of you!” I challenged</p>
<p>“Listen Sian, I will win every time so don’t bother” Matilda challenged</p>
<p>I gave her a devilish smirk, laying out the cards. Once properly sat up I could feel the burning hatred radiating from Matilda. Not only had I gotten one royal flush, I had a second followed by another win of 9 – King in all heart suits. Safe to say, I did win every game.</p>
<p>
  <em>Whose ya daddy!?!?</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*if you aren’t aware, bacon bonce is like rhyming slang for nonce…..</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sian’s POV:</p>
<p>Post-Christmas, myself Kelly and Matilda spent the whole week drunk stumbling into the new year. After ringing in the new year at Bridge Bar in Beckenham we had all bundled back to mine and for some reason all slept in my bed. Why on earth Kelly had slept in my room and not her own was a mystery, but alas I was too hungover at the time to question it. We spent all new years day in bed, and quiet frankly it all hurt; legs, head – everything. I will attest to this myself and say I think I found my limit; three bottles of proseccy and twelve shots of Sambuca.</p>
<p>Deb and my nanna for an odd reason had taken up a weird old ladies friendship. They apparently knitted when big ben chimed his chong. What a bunch of nutters, aye!</p>
<p>Gratefully, Mr. Montclair had been M.I.A most of the festive period so I took the opportunity to skive for as long as possible. Matilda had gone in once or twice to check over things but for the most part we were undisturbed. Then the second of January came and I got a scathing phone call from the ginger cunt demanding I come in and “make up for lost time”.</p>
<p>I didn’t show up for another week at that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>All is fair in love and war, following my absence this is what unfolded THAT fateful week later:</p>
<p>“I phoned you, ONE WEEK AGO and you decide now to brace me with your presence? You insolent, disrespectful – “ before he could quiet finish, I cut him off</p>
<p>“ME? DISRESPECTFUL?! You give me a promotion but no raise, take me to New York and eavesdrop on me, take me to a farm THEN FUCK OFF FOR WEEKS WITH NO INSTRUCTIONS?! IM YOUR ASSISTANT AND YOU JUST LEFT!” I screeched “I TOOK TO CLEANING THE TOILETS I GOT SO BORED!”</p>
<p>He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply “in future, you will put your annual leave days down on my calendar so I know when you are not here. Understood” even though he had now relented from yelling, his stone cold voice held authority that in this moment I did not even feel appropriate to challenge</p>
<p>“is that all, <em>sir”</em> I spat our through gritted teeth</p>
<p>“Yes, you may leave” I stomped out his office, like the child I am, slamming his door. I did not even bother to talk to Matilda – I simply just slammed my office door and sat by myself.</p>
<p>In protest to this utterly outrageous argument caused by the dickcunt, I change the signature on my email chain from:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Sincerely,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Sian-Mae Brown</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Mr. Montclair’s London District Assistant </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Foreign Liaison Lead</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>To:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Sincerely,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The insolent, Disrespectful Sian-Mae Brown</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Mr. Montclair’s Bitch </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Foreign Liaison Lead</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If I had not already made him angry, this was a sure fine way to have myself sacked and murdered. And I can confirm, it did royally piss him off. Que the next sequence!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Baldwins POV: </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I may have to relent on all congregation rules and break her every bone. It had gone past any sort of playful banter, I will not be disrespected by her any longer.</p>
<p>I had not noticed the change in email signature until it had been brought to my attention by a client. Not only had it been days since that argument, she had emailed almost everyone we worked with and had THAT as her signature.</p>
<p>Barging into her office I could not hold in my anger much longer. Weeks, and weeks of pent up emotion toward her spewed out and unfortunately for everyone else in the building they felt the wrath of my war path too. Despite the door being closed.</p>
<p>Avoiding words of abuse I was calculating in my reprimanding she astonishingly remained quiet. Nodding her head every now and then, I could see her face twitch wanting to say something but she simply said nothing. For once, she had given the respect all staff should.</p>
<p>That lasted all of about ten minutes</p>
<p>“You heaping, steaming pile of shit! After EVERYTHING I do for you – for this company. Long hours, extra work UNPAID and you have the AUDACITY to speak to me in such a tone? I expect you to talk to useless cunts like gabby in such a fashion, but me? YOU PRICK” She slapped me. hard.</p>
<p>Breathe.</p>
<p>As apparent as my disdain is for her when she behaves like this, I could not <em>actually </em>kill her. I opted for the cleaner option of regaining control. I backed her up against her desk, my arms either side of her small frame and her legs were split either side of me. I gripped the table as hard as I could to refrain from snapping her in half, and the sheer force of my grip sent a split down the oak surface.</p>
<p>Did she even blink? Fucking hell no. <em>she’ll be the death of me.</em></p>
<p>We remained in this position, for God knows how long. Then Matilda walked in. <em>This will be hard to explain. </em>Well – since she was a vampire I could kill her. <em>Now there’s a thought. </em>“Erm, sorry erm but Sian’s sister has rang me like non-stop to get her to ring back. - sorry” she bolted out the door</p>
<p>Neither of us bothered an attempt to move from the position, then <em>it</em> finally spoke “so, what are you going to do with my insolent ass? Put me on a Judas Cradle?”</p>
<p>The thought was quiet tempting, late medieval era torture was quiet pristine in its time “I’ll think about it. Perhaps I will demote you to cleaning lady for some time”</p>
<p>“Maybe you should” crossing her arms over her desk, furrowing her brows she tried to look intimidating.</p>
<p>“Maybe I will” I relented from my position, leaving her perched on her desk. Slamming her door as she did mine earlier I could not help but feel I had gotten nowhere. I intended to have regained some respect, instead I had been slapped.</p>
<p>
  <em>I truly am losing my touch.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not too long after little Miss Spanish Armada had her hissy fit, she re-entered my office in a complete state.</p>
<p>“Sir, sorry but I really need to leave. I know that takes the absolute piss bu-“ she blubbered “my nan” she then burst out crying. Full on, water works. <em>Shall I pat her on the head?</em></p>
<p>It’s times like these I need Marthe. I sighed, walking over to her seemingly having forgotten our disagreement at the sight of her evident upset. Rubbing her back as in attempt to soothe her like a small child “if you need to leave urgently, have someone from HR phone for a car. I do not want you walking home in such a state” she peered up at me for a slight second then continued to cry.</p>
<p><em>Dieu. </em>I sighed, realising she was not going to stop anytime soon, I hugged her. Much against my better judgement to that. she froze slightly, then wrapped her small arms around my waist and rested her head on my chest. I did not wish to admit this, but she…<em>fit. Seigneur Aidez Moi.</em> I will never rid myself of cinnamon, rose and saffron if I don’t sack her soon. Or at the very least attend meetings elsewhere without her.</p>
<p>After I heard her breathing slow and tears stopped running, I softly grabbed her chin to look in my direction. Running my thumb over her face I wiped a few stray tears “do you need to be driven home, yes or no”</p>
<p>She shook her head “no – she’s at Lambeth hospital it’s fine it’s only short walk and my sister is meeting me there” as she said this, tears threatened to spill over again</p>
<p>Exhaling, already knowing this was dangerous territory I grabbed my car keys. “come on, you can blow your nose all over my Bentley” her sad face faltered into a half smile.</p>
<p>The sight and smells I was met with entering into Lambeth Hospital was not <em>expected. </em>My keen senses noted the iron in the air and hearing the sounds of nurses and doctors buzzing around informed me that most of the patients had been young men, stabbed or shot in rivalries. Certainly no place for a young woman.</p>
<p>Approaching the desk, the receptionist immediately straightened in my presence. Even without knowing me, it was a involuntary reaction that most people had when I was in their midst. M<em>ost not including her.</em></p>
<p>As she was going to proceed to ask about the whereabouts of her grandmother a tall, dark haired woman came bounding towards us slamming into Sian hugging her. “Pip!” she balled “oh God – you should have –“ she turned to face me, her eyes met mine, dark and challenging.</p>
<p>I knew that stare, how those eyes felt. <em>Sian’s sister was a fucking Daemon.</em></p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>
      <span class="u">Dieu</span>
    </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Translation: Seigneur Aidez Moi ‘Lord help me’</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sians POV:</p>
<p>The look they were giving each other, or more accurate death stare was unsettling. I knew my sister had reservations about my boss, but give me a break we are in a hospital not at a WWE match.</p>
<p>“when you two are done balling each other out, I would like to see my nan?” I stood between them,  a small insignificant insect between two giants. I felt like Flik from Bugs life; fucking useless. My sister was tall, but Mr. Montclair did still tower her impressingly so.</p>
<p>She took her eyes away “maybe we can talk <em>alone” </em>death glaring him one more time “you can leave now, Mr. Montclair” she spat</p>
<p>To my utter shock, he did not argue “Sian, if you require some time off to deal with family matters please let me know. I expect you not to be in work tomorrow at the very least” with a nod in my direction, he actually left.</p>
<p>“what the FUCK was that? he went out of his way to bring me here and you couldn’t have been more rude!” I yelled, earning disapproving looks from other awaiting patients.</p>
<p>“look lets not argue about this here, come on Nans off her tits on Morphine” she dragged me to a lift and up to the appropriate floor. Entering the long winding corridor to my nans room, I was shocked to see her in her own space</p>
<p>The sight that would never leave my mind was soul destroying. My sweet, caring nanna who did nothing wrong to anyone was utterly broken. Her eye socket was double the size, lip busted and her foot was in a weird hammock thing with a make shift cast.</p>
<p>
  <em>I think my gut just fell out of my ass</em>
</p>
<p>Despite her broken disposition, my nan proceeded to every five minutes remind us to ‘always wash your noonie after sex’, to ‘never cross the road without flashing’ and ‘wipe front to back, not back to front’. Morphine did wonders for some people, think I need to get me some of it.</p>
<p>
  <em>Is it illegal to steal medical supplies from a hospital?</em>
</p>
<p>She had fallen asleep at some point, neither myself or Kelly could face resting. “sorry for kicking off earlier, I just don’t like him” she looked apologetic</p>
<p>“I really don’t understand why you hate him so much and I don’t really care. That was rude and unnecessary and if you ever see him again I want you to apologies” I don’t understand why I was so offended by her behaviour, it was only my boss at the end of the day. Also, bit of a hypocrite aint I?</p>
<p>“More chance of Fred and Rose West coming back to life and babysitting my future children” she warned “now fuck off and get me some coffee before I say something that will make a Bishop kick a hole in a stain glass window”</p>
<p>Giving each other one last unnerving stare, we giggled. It was much of a half-hearted laugh considering the surroundings but it was there.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sians POV:</p>
<p>Turns out, Nan had taken quiet the tumble down our steps. Initially we thought all kinds of terrible things, robbery, sexual assault but thank the lords it was just dodgy footing! Seen as Kelly was the bread winner in our household we agreed I would take the time off to care for her so she could remain at work. Mr Montclair had been more then understanding and said I could return when needed and could do some work from home if the opportunity rose.</p>
<p>Over two weeks, Deb and Matilda had paid us a few visits, baring gifts of wines and salmon which had been greatly appreciated. Deb had spent much of the past few days here, making Nanna tea and such. It was nice to have people take care of her for once, since she was such a mother hen to everyone.</p>
<p>Being the stubborn broad she is, I did catch her few times attempting to put the washing out or clean the loo but I put a stop to it immediately. “Pip! I’m not Wheezy from Toy Story, I’m not ready for the broken to shelf yet!” she cried</p>
<p>“YOU need to rest, you can’t be moving about! Now sit down so I can brush the birds nest on your head” pushing her down with light force, I took the boar bristle brush over her long hair. It had much started to thin over the years, but not to a great extent. Much like mine, it was wild and unkempt when not properly managed.</p>
<p>“you know if you keep tugging at me like a rag doll my head will fall off” she tried dipping her head away <em>petulant child</em></p>
<p>“Sit still or this wont end. EVER” I threatened, and resentfully she listened. After it was done, I placed a small kiss on her head muttering ‘I love you’ as I did. It was important to tell people you cared about them, you never know when they could be gone.</p>
<p><em>Ding dong the witches dead </em>chimed through my ears, this was our doorbell noise. No, we couldn’t have a regular bell, had to be Wizard of Oz. Running to answer the door, I was met with a surprise parcel; delivery flowers.</p>
<p><em>Must be for nana</em> I thought. They were beautiful, a huge bouquet of pink roses that had been wrapped in linen cloth tied neatly with a bow. Picking the card from the bunch, to my surprise it read: <em>Klaus, please send your grandmother my well wishes. I do hope your sister has stopped scowling long enough for the wrinkles in her forehead to ease. Though I understand you need this time off, please return to work soon before I murder everyone in the building. Hitler.</em></p>
<p>The smile that escaped my lips appeared to quickly to stifle. In that exact moment, Kelly came home and my nan came down the stairs.</p>
<p>All whilst I was smiling like a deranged hyena.</p>
<p>-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>“HOW VERY FUCKING CUNT BALLS DARE HE” pacing up and down, card gripped in her tight fist Kelly had been ranting under her breathe for atleast twenty minutes and every now and then screamed a loud profanity</p>
<p>Nan and I had taken to the sofa, ignoring the over dramatic hag “at some point do you think she’ll calm down?” I pondered</p>
<p>“maybe, in about thirty years when you’ve married Mr. Montclair and moved on with your lives as a happy married couple” my nan jested</p>
<p>“OH HELL TO THE NO! Not that he was EVER getting near her before, after this he is a DEAD MAN! D E A D DEEAAAD” Kelly fumed</p>
<p>“oh quiet, all you could do is lob your ballet pump at him” such a drama queen</p>
<p>“look you” she pointed at me “I know whats best and whats best is he dies!” he eyes were wild and frantic</p>
<p>“what’s BEST is that next week Pop you have no scheduled classes that your dance partner cannot do by herself so Sian can go back to work” before my sister could protest, nanna silenced her “I do not want to hear more on this matter. Now give Pip her card back and make me some dinner!” she demanded, Kelly stormed over to me stuffing the card in my chest and stomped over to the kitchen.</p>
<p>After I retreated to my room, I could hear nana having stern words with Pop but couldn’t quiet make out what it was. Not all that bothered, I really wanted to go to bed.</p>
<p>Monday morning came as a welcomed change. I had made the 1.4 miles in record timing, it taking me 20 minutes over my usual 30. North Lambeth to the finance district had become a doddle, even in the cold frosted air of January it was nice.</p>
<p>“Morning Mr Chapman” I greeted the doorman, he respectfully nodded. Milling past the usual faces I mounted the steps to my floor rather than the usual lift.</p>
<p>Strutting towards Mr. Montclairs office I heard faint chatter coming from the other side, without needing to knock he ordered for me to enter.</p>
<p>“Morning Mr. Montclair” entering his office I immediately eyed the woman sat opposite him. They had clearly been in deep conversation, his face held no humour and hers was just as stern. <em>Bitch. S</em>he was maybe thirty and was evidently of oriental decent; probably Japanese but I couldn’t be sure. Would be rude to assume someone’s heritage</p>
<p>“Miss Brown, I had not anticipated your return so soon. I trust your grandmother is well?” he asked</p>
<p>The woman spoke up before I could reply. <em>Rude bitch.</em> “Excuse Baldwins manners, my name is Miyako. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance” <em>Baldwin? First name basis with every bit of skirt now. </em>She stood from her chair, extending her hand to mine. I shook it in cautiousness, politely introducing myself also</p>
<p>Not feeling in quiet the mood to chat, I made my way out “Nana is getting on fine, Kelly is with her this week. I will be in my office, if you need anything” with a small nod I left them to return to whatever it was they had been doing.</p>
<p>
  <em>Why did I care so much?</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. 21</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just another manic Monday.....wish it was Sunday....</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Baldwins POV:</p>
<p>I hoped for a calm week, but the Gods have been testing my patients so much so I had half considered suicide to pay them a visit and lay waste to Elysium.</p>
<p>It began when Miyako had stormed into my office on Monday, then ended Friday with Miss Brown launching her notepad at me. <em>the women in my life.</em></p>
<p>Sitting at my desk as usual I scanned through emails being careful to ignore ‘urgent requests for meetings’. I did not wish to visit other offices and I’m not overly sure why. <em>I did know. Liar. </em></p>
<p>“You best fess up to whatever millennia crisis you have going on father or I will torture the information out of you” Miyako slammed into my office, glaring me down in my seat. “and do NOT attempt to persuade me there is nothing wrong; I know my sire and something is bothering you. I sensed it at Christmas” she sat opposite me, her warrior frame alluding to much power</p>
<p>
  <em>Why did I feel small?</em>
</p>
<p>With a heavy sigh I had unloaded what had been months and months of pent up confusion around my assistant. Everything from her first day up until Christmas – nothing was left out. sparing some of the gory details of my night in The Box she sat and listened whilst I complained and spoke in awe of Sian. Receiving a gleeful smile at the New York incident, she did not once interrupt me.</p>
<p>Once I had finished, explaining everything up until the hospital she sat in silence. After much too long, she erupted into a roaring laughter.</p>
<p>
  <em>Is it illegal for vampire parents to spank their grown children?</em>
</p>
<p>“I am glad you find this funny <em>daughter. </em>Care to enlighten me as to what is so funny?” my brows furrowed in confusion</p>
<p>“Oh Father, if you do not see the events unfolding before you I do not wish to enlighten you” cackling like a Salem witch, I merely gave her a stern look that eventually had her quieten up.</p>
<p>
  <em>Guess I will never know the answer to that.</em>
</p>
<p>“Now, as much as I love our reunion, is their a particular reason you came or was it just to poke fun at my situation?” she cackled again</p>
<p>“Well – not only to check in on you, but to inform you there might be a nest problem in Japan. I came here first to seek your advice before returning home” she divulged that having been phoned whilst at her stay in Sept-Tours she made pace to return. As she left her home once a year to engage in Christmas in France, she usually spent the month, but it had been cut short.</p>
<p>“if you need my assistance, you know I am always here” she nodded, once further discussing the nest, giving as much detail as she recollected. Upon this divulsion, Miss Brown entered mid-way through the conversation.</p>
<p>As Sian exited, Miyako gave her own stern look, one of contempt and humour “she is quiet young, father, but I see why you are… <em>confused</em>. Such a wilful aura”</p>
<p>I sighed, “yes. Quiet indeed”</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Dieu.</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>It began when Miyako had stormed into my office on Monday, then ended Friday with Miss Brown launching her notepad at me. The women in my life.</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Having spent the better part of the week blatantly ignored by Sian, with my judgement clouded I approached her in the office. I found her on hands and knees crawling around her office floor over multitudes of paperwork. There were staff records, transcripts, complaint slips; everything all spilled out on the laminate.</p>
<p>I shall <em>not </em>admit to gawking at her assets whilst in the position she had been. I refute the accusation.</p>
<p>Not even noticing I had sauntered into her office, she continued to fumble around whispering profanities under her breathe. ‘fucking sorry little ingrate’ is something she had adopted from me, and was fervently scolding a piece of paper. Despite this amusing site, I cleared my throat alerting her to my presence.</p>
<p><em>Thud. </em>I have yet to witness any human move as quickly as Sian had. Realising I had entered the room she shot up from her position, hitting her head on the desk on the ascent. “afternoon, Miss Brown. Quiet busy I see” not daring step on the piles of paperwork, I remained at her door</p>
<p>“Afternoon, what do you want?” she replied in a clipped tone</p>
<p>“are you regularly acquainted with deforestation or is there reason for this mess?” I gestured to the piles of work</p>
<p>She huffed, throwing in my direction a series of emails between herself and Miss Garcia. <em>Ah. </em>“the fucking tit wank is suing you for Professional Negligence. Claims the litigation for the fall didn’t cover the medical costs and as such she suffered financial loss” she dropped down again, rummaging through paperwork</p>
<p>I <em>might </em>have stared.</p>
<p>Taking all but the little restraint I had left “Miss Brown, for the love of all things holy please, get up from the floor”</p>
<p>“I CANT I know its here” she shuffled across the room, edging herself in my direction. Rejoicing at the floor, she grabbed at paperwork that had been inches from my foot. Waving the sheets in the air she had now resume a kneeling position. <em>Right in front of me.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Dieu.</em>
</p>
<p>She leant back on her heels, peering up at me. lips slightly parted and her head cocked to the side was all thoroughly too much. Taking her by the shoulders I hoisted her up so she had now been standing. “I would not see it wise to sit in such a manner, especially infront of your employer Miss Brown”</p>
<p>Her cheeks rouged at the insinuation, scurrying over to her desk creating much needed distance between ourselves. Without commenting, she picked up her diary and hurtled it in my direction. If it had not been for quick reaction I would currently have no head.</p>
<p>“well, that is awfully unkind Miss Brown. I do not wish to be doomed to the same fate as a wife of Henry VIII” I tried to lighten the mood</p>
<p>“if you are to be no help at all, you can LEAVE!” Reaching for the stapler on her desk, I made quick retreat for my office thus to avoid further decapitation.</p>
<p>
  <em>It has been a rather strange week. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. 22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sians POV:</p>
<p>If I don’t get a bit of dick soon I think I might cut a few ribs out. Sorry to be vulgar, but I’ve not copped hold of a bloke since splitting with my ex last year and it was beginning to feel like my virginity had grown back.</p>
<p>Even Hank the DPD driver probably notices by standoffish mood, squinty eyes and bad aura. I practically screamed ‘gaggin for it’ with one look. Work was becoming increasingly difficult with Mr. Montclair walking around in those suits looking edible all day long and to be frank, I’d ride him like a bucking bronco.</p>
<p>Last week was stressful, that stupid impotent Selena Garcia had made multiple false liability claims against Mr. Montclair and co. and had no proof of anything but apparently telling her to go fuck herself will not stand up in a tribunal. <em>Argh, shiver me timbers!</em></p>
<p>The weekend had not given much to alleviate any stress and I had simply opted to binge watching Disney films. I had given up attempting to pull on a night out, simply as anytime a man stepped near me the thought of having sex with the bloke did not appeal to me.</p>
<p>
  <em>Apparently my noonie only wanted one man, and he was ginger. </em>
</p>
<p>Currently sat in the tea room with Matilda ramble on about her weekend with Kelly I hadn’t paid much attention to what she was saying. <em>Probably something slutty.</em></p>
<p>“Heelloooooo! Earth to Sian” she waved her hand in my face, knocking me out of my trance “did you listen to me at all?”</p>
<p>“Not really, sorry. Not in the mood” I huffed, leaning back on my chair crossing my arms</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes “What Is wrong with you? You’ve been of kilter recently”</p>
<p>“Nothing, not been in a good head space since nan fell” well done for lying you scumbag -1 point for being a nob</p>
<p>She pouted, faking sympathy “you lying slag. I gave you opportunity to tell me whats going on and you lie. To me?” she made a ridiculous face “care to explain whats really up?”</p>
<p>As always the theme of my life, I could not finish my sentence before I heard Mr. Montlcair beckon me to his office.</p>
<p>
  <em>Narrowly avoided that. Few. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Baldwins POV: </p>
<p>“Miss Brown, could you please bring me the Guard Unividual files – I require them for my meeting with Mr. Osborne” Had I been more inclined, I would have met with Hamish at his offices, but since it was my advice he was seeking he would be coming here. No need to put myself out, especially not for a daemon.</p>
<p>“’Here” she handed me the large file “I had them ready and prepared. I also took the courtesy of emailing a ‘cliff notes’ version ahead of time to Mr Osborne. Some information, but not everything you would discuss. I hope that’s alright?” her brow furrowed, wrinkling her face.</p>
<p>“Thankyou, that’s fine” if science ever invented cloning people I know the first human hair I would donate to test. But, I would completely and utterly change her impudent personality.</p>
<p>“Paul from HR’s okay, but mostly everyone just shits themselves when you pop up. Not sure why, who would be scared of a ginger?” her giggle filed the room, she turned on her heels to leave</p>
<p>“Not so fast, I require you in the meeting to minute it. I do not want Mr. Osborne to miss recount anything I say. He’s tactful and slimy.”</p>
<p>“Tactful and slimy. Aww, that’s no way to talk about yourself, Sir” she quickly sped out of the room after that comment, not before winking in my direction. “Ill be back armed with my pad and pen”</p>
<p>After what felt like a lifetime, she appeared back in the boardroom armed with her ‘my little pony’ pad and pink fountain pen. I must endeavour to find her a suitable replacement for that unsightly notepad that is agreeable.</p>
<p>Moments after, Hamish entered the room and in tow a briefcase and a stern look. “Baldwin, looking as vexed as always. Miss Brown I presume” he extended his hand to shake Sian’s first, narrowly missing my look of disapproval. <em>Slimy</em>.</p>
<p>“Hamish, as you may or may not be aware, Miss Brown will be minuting this as to avoid any discrepancies in forthcoming information” I did not intend for this to be a long meeting, he bores me to my core. How my brother spends time with this oath is beyond my imagination.</p>
<p>After about 15 minutes of discussing his new deal ideas and problems he had been having with Unividual, I had hoped he would just keel over. Nothing ever goes my way.</p>
<p>“Yes I –“ before Hamish could continue, a louder more brash Scottish drawl cut through his sentence, and in entered who I know to be Malcolm Tucker and a flurry of nuisances, otherwise known as ‘people’. Usually I would have been grateful for the interruption but the events that commenced deterred me from positive thoughts. I am not overly sure of all that followed as my blood boiling got in the way of rational thought, but I am confident Miss Brown did not miss a moment of the argument in her minutes. She probably will type them up with great pleasure, and I will never get away from my new name, Baldcunt Clairtit.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. 23</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hamish’s POV: Malcolm <em>VS Montclair</em></p>
<p>“Now go and stand in that fucking corner or I will perform a living autopsy on you with a rusty spade you fucking imbecile” Malcom spat, his Scottish accent thickening with every word. I had not intended to have these two in a room, and in any situation Baldwin would always win. But this was Malcolm <em>FUCKING</em> Tucker and I wasn’t so sure Baldwin would come out unscathed.</p>
<p>“Listen to me you oozing puss of impotence, speak to me in that tone again and I will do more than just collapse your entire Government.” Baldwin hadn’t raised his voice yet, or sworn but everyone in the room recoiled when he spoke. He didn’t need to shout to assert dominance, but none the less it was asserted but this didn’t faze Malcolm. I think Oliver may have wet himself.</p>
<p>“If I could interject” a meek voice heckled, someone had tried to reason with them after 20 minutes of their tennis slang match. B<em>y the love of God someone shut this woman up before she is beheaded. </em>Her moment of madness was silenced with a death glare from both men.</p>
<p>“You may fucking NOT. Id rather fist myself with a marzipan dildo the take advice from an employee of Baldcunt Clairtit” I pinched the bridge of nose, exhaling. All I wanted was some advice from Baldwin in regards to some financial dealings with one of his business partners. And then the devil incarnate showed up. It was going to be a l o n g meeting.</p>
<p>“Mr Tucker, you interrupted this meeting and I can assure you will not be interrupting any again” Malcolm is lucky he is not a creature and the room is full of humans. Baldwin wasn’t known for being the nicest to his staff but he reserved the right to talk to his employees like underclass and did not take to others doing to them as he does. Had Malcolm of been a vampire, his head would be nicely off of his shoulders being used as a ball for kick ups “IF you ever speak to <em>my </em>staff like that, I will boot your head from your shoulders, out of this window through to the Shard”</p>
<p><em>Great minds think alike</em> “As much as id like to sit idly by and watch this venomous game of who has the bigger… mouth… I really would like to continue my meeting. Malcolm, I appreciate your visit and I will attend to our matters after dealing with Baldwin” at times like these I wish everyone had the same diplomatic temperament as I.</p>
<p>“well wopty fucking do, you would rather tango with a frog then your own kin. Fucking treacherous bastard placing me second. All the things I’ve done for you” Malcolm actually tutted. At me.</p>
<p>“All you do is make me wish I was dying from type two diabetes Malcolm now sit down and shut up” I had lost my patience few times in my life, and Malcolm is accountable for at least four of those incidences. </p>
<p>“WELL FUCK YOU” he pointed at me “DEFINITELY FUCK YOU” Then at Baldwin “AND FUCK ALL OF YOU” He waved his hands about like the maniac he was, and stormed out shouting profanities. “hackled old face cock womble” was something I may adapt to my own vocabulary.</p>
<p>“does this mean.. is it… am I over” Oliver whispered after what seemed to be a tense few moments</p>
<p>“Good God you mewling quim, take your pathetic excuse for a life <em>out </em>of my boardroom. No wonder Malcolm speaks to you like shit I can smell the pathetic coming off in waves” Baldwin at this point walked towards the door and ushered everyone apart from myself out. “and tell your boss If I ever see that bagpipe fucking tool again I will need all my energy to resist flaying him and selling the remains to the TIMES newspaper” Oliver may now have shit himself.</p>
<p>“Baldwin, I make it my life mission to ensure neither of you are in the same country. Ever” I  inadvertently just caused and avoided World War Three. I need whisky.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Baldwins POV: </p>
<p>Hamish turned to me once everyone had left, apologies were given and the assurity that I would never be around <em>that</em> again. If it weren’t for old promises, id of ripped Malcolm’s head off.</p>
<p>“I am very surprised you didn’t tear his head off Baldwin, most shocked indeed” Hamish’s voice drawled through my ears. I inwardly chuckled at that comment, <em>Maybe Hamish is not all that bad after all…not that I would admit it aloud.</em></p>
<p>“Even if I were human also it would not be a fair fight. He can spit all the profanities he wants id still decapitate him as a warmblood” my thoughts wandered to how nice it would be to feel him break under my wrath, to feel his bones snap and blood fill the air as he took one last gasping breath. I sometimes miss being that of my old self – a brute vampire and not a soul to challenge my actions. Fucking Congregation. That doesn’t include me of course, just the other eight degenerates that sit in my chambers.</p>
<p>“I think after all that excitement I will ask you to liaise with Miss Brown about this Unividual matter. If I have to continue this conversation I may upset the balance of nature.” <em>By staking you </em>I thought</p>
<p>“I think that’s wise, Baldwin. Hopefully the next encounter between ourselves is less unpleasant. Take care” his curtness was not unnoticed but did not bother me. The quicker he left the better.</p>
<p>
  <em>Hopefully the next time we meet will be when you are in a coffin, in many years to come. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Fucking Scotts, even more exhausting then the English.</em>
</p>
<p>As far as my seething mood, the re-entering of Miss Brown into the boardroom was unexpected. In a moment of what can only be described as “unimaginable rage and lack of good judgement” I <em>may </em>have overstepped professional boundaries with my young assistant <em>only slightly…</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. 24</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sian’s POV:</p>
<p>Not even being armed with the best notepad in the world could have prepared myself for the <em>absolute</em> treasure of the meeting I endured. I almost wet myself when he had gotten called Baldcunt Clairtit. So far I had pushed my luck when it came to Mr Montclair, but Malcolm Tucker took the crown, fucked it, stuffed it on his head and danced around a bit. I think he might be my new hero.</p>
<p>After seeing Mr Osborne leave, I decide against my better judgement and re-entered the boardroom. As I did I became aware I was now alone with a seething boss. Had I of been any other member of staff they may have been sacked just because he was in the mood, but I was differnent. <em>I think my job is safe…</em></p>
<p>After moments of deafening silence I tried to break the ice “so Baldcunt Clairtit, will I minute all of that or just up until you were served by my new hero?” he did not respond, instead all that came was a look I had never seen before and a low animalistic growl. I chewed my bottom lip anxiously, maybe that was abit far. <em>Back to flipping burgers in McDonalds I go</em></p>
<p>He started to walk towards me, never breaking eye contact “you know Sian, its rare I allow anyone to speak to me in such a fashion. Few dare. But you, ever insistent on pushing my buttons” he started to back me up against the closed door, standing only inches from me with his arms either side. He took a long sigh “I just don’t know what to do with you”</p>
<p>Now, I know this is not appropriate, but being the mildly slutty opportunist I am, my lips parted slowly and my eyes darted to his. If this was him <strong><em><span class="u">finally</span></em></strong> making a move after all this time, who was I to resist the Adonis? Red flags should be waving, warning alarms sounding but all I could do was hope he’d close that God awful gap. <em>Germaine Greer would be proud…</em></p>
<p>“Sian” he whispered, and it was apparent how close he truly was. His lips were brushing against mine, but not enough.</p>
<p>“Mr Montclair, what are you doing” I barely chocked out. Suddenly, a hand brushed against by stomach, dipping to the hem of my skirt lifting it slightly. Any further and he would be caressing me in all the ways someone I work for shouldn’t. <em>maybe I’ll resign right now and have him take me on the boardroom desk. Fuck.</em></p>
<p>“ask me to stop, and I will Sian” for a moment he stopped any movement and looked me dead in the eyes. “I’m very annoyed and right now all good judgement and self-control left with that cunt Malcolm. Tell. Me. To. Stop.”</p>
<p>I barely squeaked out a “no” before he continued his journey to my nether regions. His hands stroked their way up the inside of my thighs before his fingers brushed against a part of me that seemed very pro Mr Montclair. My breathing became more erratic as he rubbed against the fabric of my underwear. I let out a small moan as I felt him begin to nip and suck at the sweet spot on my neck.</p>
<p>After a few moments he stopped, looked at me and a decision seemed to have been made. He slipped his hand inside my underwear, and continued to rub and circle my aching parts. I let out a moan that was definitely heard by anyone outside of the boardroom. He placed small kisses along my neck, nibbling at my ear lobe. <em>Someone throw some ice water on me before I burn up. </em>His assault quickened, earning various moans and ‘Jesus Christ’s’ from me. Halting his assault on my sensitive bud, he stroked his fingers against my wet slit before slipping his fingers inside of me, building up the pressure.</p>
<p>Any attempts I made to relieve him of his stiffening problem that was pressed against me were quickly diminished by a throaty growl and swatting my hands away. Instead he used his free hand to pin my arms above my head and vigorously increased the speed to which he was darting his fingers in and out of me. My hips rocked with the rhythm he had established and I was quickly on my way over the orgasm rainbow. I bit as hard as I could on my lip so Linda from marketing couldn’t hear the moans coming from me, but the veiled attempts seemed futile. He had managed to simultaneously rub my clit whilst building a rhythm inside, my moans grew louder and I was out of breath. He stared at me the whole time, like he was studying his prey.</p>
<p>Before I knew It, I felt myself explode and I could no longer hold in my moans. I grabbed hold of his arms to steady myself as he helped me ride out my climax, and once it was over my legs were weak. <em>If it weren’t for him holding me id be collapsed on the floor in my own cummy mess. </em></p>
<p>After a few moments, he removed his hand from my knickers, took out his handkerchief from his top pocket and wiped his hand. My chest was rising and falling heavily as I tried to catch my breath, not once taking our eyes off each other. <em>He best not forget and blow his nose with his hanky later.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>And all he did was slip me a cheeky finger. Imagine the sex. Good. Fucking. God.</em>
</p>
<p>“well” he cleared his throat “that is one sure fine way to relieve ones self of anger. Care to join me for dinner tomorrow night, Sian?” I barely heard him above the chirping birds swirling in my head, I mean Christ I don’t think I ever need to be touched again.</p>
<p>“I would say yes, but only on the promise you leave your fingers of fury at home. I don’t think I could cope twice in one week” he chuckled, stepping away from me slightly so I could come away from the door. “7 is good for me, I have nothing scheduled here so it gives me almost a whole day to compose myself, sir”</p>
<p>“Very well, 7 it is. I will pick you up” before he could comment further, I darted from the office before I was tempted to carry anything on. On the way to the little girls room I did notice the disapproving looks from Linda. <em>She was always a judgemental bitch</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---------------------------------------------------------------------------</p>
<p>“So he just bowled up to ya, stuck a finger in and asked you out?” my sisters concern was evident, given my happy ending to the working day. she tied her short dark hair into a bun and continued to pour out the remainder of the white zinfandel into our glasses “I mean come on pip, I know you like an older man but your 30-something year old boss is abit <em>much</em>” she shook her head a slightly laughed.</p>
<p>“well, I had thought to ask him to stop. But then quickly realised he was too delectable to not. He is not your type, but id put him on a plate and have him for dinner any day of the week” necking the last part of zinfandel, I reached for the second bottle “plus, I haven’t been near a bloke since splitting with Callum last year and the detachable shower head just don’t cut it” she cackled and slapped me on the shoulder</p>
<p>“I swear to GOD you filthy slag I USE that shower head to wash my hair!” her grimace was evident</p>
<p>“need I remind you Pop, I had the unfortunate time of coming home to you mid bonk not so long ago. AGAINST our fridge none the less!” she snorted at this remark “and you call me a filthy slag!”</p>
<p>“Look, I know about Baldwin Montclairs reputation. Anyone in London or any city in the world knows him. I want you to be careful” in her eyes I could see she had more information, but I knew she wouldn’t give it. As close as we were, she always hid something from me I had long ago stopped trying to find out.</p>
<p>“I might not know him as well as some people but I can handle him. I am sure he’s a sweet innocent lil man puppy under that exterior” the look on her face of uncertainty should have been enough to send alarms off again, but apparently my warning bells seem to be dismantled.</p>
<p>
  <em>Probably got frazzled during my trip down finger lane.</em>
</p>
<p>“listen, you can obviously live your life as you wish but please, <em>please</em> be careful. You really do not know him at all” she pleaded</p>
<p>I was beginning to become tired of this rhetoric from her, she had only ever met him once at the hospital and it was a fleeting moment. I had not disclosed that long before this mornings antics little incidences had gone on, but she’s been on my back none the less. Granted, he has now made his move and I can’t hide things much longer but she’s behaving as if he is fucking Lucifer.</p>
<p>“look, you can play the big sister card all day long but he is my boss, you’ve barely ever met him so I don’t really understand why you are so hell bent on believing idle gossip and not me” we rarely argued, but I was about to smack a bitch</p>
<p>She sighed deeply “I’m not going to argue with you on this, ill support you whatever. Like always” she engulfed me in a hug “but I will be the first to pick you up when he ruins your life and then tell you I told you so”</p>
<p>I rolled my eyes, drama queen “its one fucking date Pop, get your knickers out of their twist” she punched my arm, fairly pathetically since she is so week. As the conversation had died, we returned to watching FRIENDS.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. 25</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sians POV:</p>
<p>Despite the cold air I had opted for a little black dress and my trusty Versace crystal pumps. The tight slinky dress clung to every good part of me, accentuating my P H A T ass. Just cutting above the knee it was the perfect dinner dress. My hair had been blow-dried to perfection and ‘the higher the hair, the closer to God’. </p>
<p>When he arrived, seven on the dot, he was dressed in what can only be described as the most knicker dropping outfit I’ve seen him wear yet. Black button down shirt, tight against his large frame and dark <em>tight, oh so tight, </em>trousers. Having worn a grey trench coat, he was far better prepared for the weather then I was but I am not about to let some silly January weather ruin my outfit. <em>Grandma didn’t raise no sissy.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Did I say his arms were moulded by a tight shirt? Did I mention the shirt? Oh fuck</em>
</p>
<p>“You look beautiful” greeting me with a small kiss on the cheek, he led me down the steps to his car.</p>
<p>As he opened my door, I lent up and whispered in his ear “that tight shirt you have on does wonders for a girls imagination, Baldwin”</p>
<p>“I aim to please” he smirked</p>
<p>The sight of Clos Maggiore large red sign filled my vision and I felt excitement brim in the pit of my stomach. I knew of this place, and was fairly impressed when we had been personally greeted by the Chef and seated in our own private room. It was truly stunning, our room came with its own wine cabinet, brown leather sofas adjacent to the dining table. The ceiling was the most magnificent site having cherry blossoms adorned to it.</p>
<p>He had ordered for us, and allowing some devolution of power I succumbed to this wish. Meat entrees all ordered to his liking, almost alive. I had not minded at all in honestly, it had all been perfect. Having the waiters scurry in and out of our room made way for idle chatter whilst we ate but once the food had stopped flowing and wine had taken it’s place, we were alone.</p>
<p>Once finished eating we moved to the large leather sofa in the room next to the crackling fire. Having poured us some very expensive wine it was…cosy.</p>
<p>“not that I am being ungrateful, having that been one of the best meals I have ever had, but those waiters are awfully annoying. I think I might lamp the brunette if she looks at you one more time” <em>date one and I was already jealous. Fab. </em></p>
<p>He chuckled “I chose this room so to save anyone seeing <em>you </em>dressed the way you are. Couldn’t have anyone gawking at you”</p>
<p>I bit my lip “oh, like you were gawking at me when I was on the office floor?” raising my eyebrow in accusation</p>
<p>He simply growled “you knew I had been standing there, didn’t you?”</p>
<p>Giggling, shaking my head “I saw your face in the PC, couldn’t keep your eyes off my ass at all could you?”</p>
<p>Placing his hand on my thigh, index finger making small circles on the outer side “I am quiet the opportunist” his hand movements had began to make way for a tightening in my stomach and I could feel my restraint weakening.</p>
<p>Slapping his hand away in a bid to calm myself “I did tell you to leave the fingers of fury at home, didn’t I?” I mocked</p>
<p>“yes, I do believe you did” he returned to his earlier position, now leaning in closer, placing a chaise kiss on my neck “You may not show much respect in our work Sian, but you will learn too outside of the office, one way or another” I shuddered at the insinuation.</p>
<p>Thinking better of my wit, I moved the conversation to clear waters “So” I cleared my throat “tell me about your family, I know you have a brother, is it just the two of you?” the memory of the scat man story will be forever a favourite of mine</p>
<p>“No, I have a large family. My step-mother lives at home in France, I have five siblings scattered around the world along with two nephews. The woman you met last week; Miyako is a distant relative” <em>thank God they are related</em></p>
<p>“Five? Your parents were busy!” I jested “Your step-mother has a house in France?”</p>
<p>“it is my property, technically. I have a house in every country, and an apartment in almost every Capitol. France is one of my favourites, it being my ancestral home” </p>
<p>“well… I own the shed in my back garden… does that count as property development” I grinned</p>
<p>“Definitely, have you ever considered branching out – perhaps a greenhouse?” he met my grin with a laugh “you live with your father, grandmother and sister, correct?” he asked</p>
<p>My smile faltered for a second, thinking of my father. I had not let slip my father’s suicide, and hoped it wouldn’t come up so soon “I used too – now it’s myself, nanna and my sister. After my dad came back from a tour in Afghanistan he wasn’t the same” I couldn’t say it aloud, but I think he understood</p>
<p>He took a heavy sigh, picking up my hand leaving a lingering kiss on my inner wrist “my father was a prisoner of war, he passed not long after” a fleeting moment of sadness washed over his face. “La mort ne vous définit pas.“ <em>death does not define you.</em></p>
<p>Most dates, a conversation of death would have been a mood killer but seemingly in a brief moment of mutual need he closed the distance into a delicate kiss. His hand remained on my outer thigh drawing circles whilst mine trailed over his broad shoulders, clasping at the back of his neck. His  tongue danced with my own laying waste to all bad thoughts. That same growl erupted from his throat, and then he pulled back. Insistent I would not have the cold water dashed over me so quickly, I forcefully pulled his face back to mine. Biting his lip gently I manipulated entry and I let out a small contented moan when our tongues collided again.</p>
<p>Some moments later, the sound of clanging cutlery broke us apart, his forehead rested on mine “I think it responsible if we retire for the night, Sian” he cleared his throat, neither of us moving an inch. Feeling like hours had passed when truly it had been seconds he held his hand and gestured for me to stand.</p>
<p>The drive home held no conversation but in its place was comfortable silence. He drove the short 20 minutes, hand still rested on my upper thigh between gear changes. As we approached my home, the tightening in my stomach did nothing but increase. There was nothing more I need in this moment then to have him take me, but I had suspicion he was not inclined to do so, just yet.</p>
<p>The car stopped, signalling an ending to our time tonight. He turned to me, sighing deeply “what are you doing to me?” he whispered in a husked voice</p>
<p>Returning the torture he had bestowed upon me all night, I placed my hand on his upper thigh, leaning over so I could whisper lowly in his ear “nothing, yet” he growled in response, grabbing my face in his hands kissing me with such a ferocious passion I almost fell apart. He moved his hand down to my neck, taking a slight grip as he deepened the kiss. I moaned as a response, this new found contact driving me wild.</p>
<p>It was in this moment, us behaving like a pair of horny teenagers my sister sporting a charcoal face mask and sleepwear smashed on his car window demanding he ‘remove his tongue before she removes something else’. Gratefully, nanna came bounding out of the house after her, dragging the little shit inside. One more look at each other and Baldwin and I broke out into laughter.</p>
<p>“Oh god” I am sure I turned the brightest red “I am SO sorry! I will smother her later”</p>
<p>He continued laughing lightly “no need for such drastic actions. Perhaps, our next date I will not take to such public displays in front of your home” he winked</p>
<p>“so – there is going to be a next time?” I questioned</p>
<p>He brushed a fly away hair from my face, his thumb caressed my swollen lips “there shall be. I fully expect the upmost professionalism from yourself at work tomorrow Miss Brown. Your reputation might take a blow courting the boss”</p>
<p>I giggled “courting” I raised my brow “you are such an old man!” with one last peck, I stepped from his car “goodnight, Mein Führer”</p>
<p>“Goodnight, Klaus”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. 26</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sian’s POV:</p>
<p>Following the date I had spent the remainder of the evening divulging the gossip to nanna and Pop whilst having Deb and Matilda on speaker phone listening intently. Once I had recalled the events, I bundled into bed grinning like an complete fool.</p>
<p>Bed sheets shuffling alerted me to Kelly getting into bed with me, she sighed, facing me in the dark “I am slightly sorry for stepping out of line earlier. I know it was bang out of order, I just didn’t anticipate seeing him choke you whilst shoving his tongue down your neck after the first date”</p>
<p>“Pop I don’t and can’t understand why you don’t like him, and I do not need to remind you that I am far from a saint. It’s not the first time I’ve been chocked and I certainly hope it’s not the last” she gagged, bashing me with a pillow</p>
<p>“God if Dad we here we would both be locked up 24 hours” we both snorted ungracefully</p>
<p>“next time, at least let me get a fuck in before you interrupt. It’s been almost a year for Christ sake” I whined, it was the very least she could let me have</p>
<p>She remained quiet for some time and then rolled me over into a bear hug “ill let him fuck you when you are married” before I could protest this silly notion of marriage, she persisted “Shut up and go to sleep”</p>
<p>
  <em>Why was she so overprotective all of a sudden?</em>
</p>
<p>The next day could not have dragged on longer then it did. I felt like I had done 700 hours of work before lunch time. It was odd, Matilda had been quiet reserved and furthermore strange Baldwin was no where to be seen. Not being a psychopath I resisted the urge to phone or text him, we had been on one date and it had been insinuated to another. I will simply wait for him to contact me. no harm no foul!</p>
<p>“TTIIIILLLLYYYYYY why are you such a grumpy old woman today?” I incessantly poked her arm in protest</p>
<p>A small smile appeared on her face “your face makes me grumpy” poking her tongue out I flicked her on the shoulder as hard as I could, earning a fake owie in response “nothing im fine honestly, just one of those weeks I suppose” she shrugged</p>
<p>“It’s fucking Wednesday and you are acting like…. Well Wednesday!” I tried to lighten the mood</p>
<p>“Listen, if I am going to be compared to anyone from the Addams Family, it has to Morticia! So dark and elegant” she had dreamy eyes imagining herself as the dark queen herself</p>
<p>“And I” flipping my hair over my face, pulling it all to the front “am cousin IT!” Mwahahahah!”</p>
<p>Finally, she laughed and not a fake half hearted one. A genuine, belly laugh.</p>
<p>
  <em>Thank God, I was beginning to be concerned!</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. 27</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sians POV:</p>
<p>I had not been concerned having not heard from <em>him </em>after a few days, but two weeks later he had not shown up at work nor bothered to contact me regarding any business needs or otherwise. My sister waited all of four days before reeling off the ‘I told you so’ and ‘if only you had listened to me’. I hated her being right, but insisting I was unbothered by it did not deter her hatred. It displeased me to sound so pathetic, it had only been one date. Sure, he slipped me a cheeky finger but I’ve had dalliances with men before that lasted no longer then one night so what was so different now?</p>
<p>W<em>hat was it about him?</em></p>
<p>I could not focus, work was dry having it been so soon after Christmas and New Year break not many people had been in their respective offices for me to commit to any work. With no complaints or assistant work to do, I was bone idle. I was a slight workaholic with no work and I felt like clawing at the walls, just to give some amusement to my days. More concerning, the 15<sup>th</sup> of February my contract was up, and with no boss around seemingly this meant the end of my employment.</p>
<p>A pang sadness and confusion washed over me. I was so sure we had been on a similar page – the date was mutually enjoyed and we worked well together nonetheless. <em>What had I done wrong?</em></p>
<p>Sighing with despair, I simply left. There was no point being here with no work and sitting in the same four walls became too claustrophobic. Waving bye to Tosh, Jameson and Matilda I made pace home for the day hoping my nanna would not question too much of my early arrival.</p>
<p>“Nanna, you home?” kicking my shoes off, I followed the strong smell of food wafting from the kitchen “Ooh that smells yummy, what is it?” my eyes lit up at the site of the huge pot she was tending too</p>
<p>“oh honey, you’re home early!” she kissed me on the head “It’s an American recipe I think, seafood gumbo. It’s not ready, it will be for dinner time though. Want me to make you something else?”</p>
<p>I hadn’t been hungry recently, which was odd “no thanks, ill wait for this beauty to be cooked!” I smiled at her <em>fucking love me nanna I do </em></p>
<p>Leaving her undistracted I set off for my room to change into something more homely. Unconsciously, I had begun to check my emails in case he had attempted contact. <em>Nothing. Takes the fucking piss, don’t it? </em>My eye caught the latest email thread, and I could not believe what I was reading.</p>
<p>
  <em>For the immediate attention of Miss Sian-Mae Brown</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Please see enclosed a letter of formal invitation for a meeting with Sir Allen Sugar. Please respond as convenient of your availability, I look forward to your correspondence.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Mrs Austin</em>
</p>
<p>Well, if my curiosity had not already been tickled, it had been now. <em>Maybe I would finally get to sit in a Royce!</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. 28</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sians POV:</p>
<p>Almost a month had passed since the date, my intern contract had been due to end and there had been no word nor sight of Baldcunt. I never imagined he would walk away after one date, I expected atleast three before becoming bored but he does ever surprise me. I did not intend on taking such a meeting with another company so soon, but I was in desperate need of employment and working for Sir Allen Sugar would prove fruitful.</p>
<p>I had not spoken with anyone about this, keeping my cards close to my chest. I had felt, after the first initial week of betrayal those around me were keeping secrets. Initially my sister was ever insistent of murdering Baldwin, but had recently relented from any ill thoughts. Between her and Matilda they had insisted I simply wait it out and give him time to return. With having absolutely no clue what had gotten into them, I simply ignore the advice.</p>
<p>No longer withstanding such disrespect, I had formulated my plan. Today I would officially resign from Mr. Montclairs employment and accept the other offer. Entering the behemoth glass doors I made the ascent to my office for the last time. Sighing at the now empty office, I made way to HR with my resignation of immediate effect in hand. Shocked faces filled my sights and I left holding the last of my boxes.</p>
<p>
  <em>No one makes a fool out of me.</em>
</p>
<p>Unwavering strength flowed through me as I exited the building, I had a small smile plastered on my face as I regained control of my life. It felt good, knowing that in one week I would have my meeting with Sir Allen Sugar and I could go on, forgetting this weird chapter in my life.</p>
<p><em>Those good feelings lasted all of one night.</em> Emptiness is what brimmed in my emotions the next morning. Nanna had made a fuss of me, lots of tea and biscuits to fill the odd void. I hated to sound so desperate, but when a man states you will have a second date then proceeds to fall off the face of the earth it is quiet the kick to the stomach. Having it only be one date it was laughable at my reaction, but sue me I have some abandonment issues! Who doesn’t?</p>
<p>Remaining curled in the same ball I had since yesterday, I had no intention of moving a muscle. I intended to wallow in pity until next week. My greasy hair was dragged up into the most unflattering pineapple, I had thrown on one of my dad’s old shirts, a Guns N’ Roses 1991 concert tee and the biggest granny pants I could muster. Thoroughly looking like a dump and snacking on everything in sight, my day was set.</p>
<p>
  <em>“were government agents now, we should have code names…..i want to be mystique!” nothing like X-men first class to take my mind off of the current situation. Not half bad the actors they’ve cast –even Mr wheels himself is kinda cute</em>
</p>
<p>Mid film, just as it was getting to any good bit my nannas demanding voice cut through the training montage. It could not have come at a worse time, Magneto was about to make jazz hands!</p>
<p>“SIAN-MAE! Come down here, immediately!” Nanna shouted, Full name? to what do I owe this pleasure</p>
<p>Making tracks to follow her voice, I found myself staring from the top of my stairscase at a sight I did not expect to see at the foot of the stairs. Baldcunt Clairtit, In all his fine ass glory, armed wearing a navy suit. And me? I had chocolate smeared on my cheek.</p>
<p>Cunting wonderful!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. 29</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Baldwins POV:</p><p>Even the sight of chocolate smeared across those delicate lips could not distract from the stir I felt. Her bare legs, thick and luscious stood teasingly at the top of the staircase. Her scruffy shirt did nothing to cover her bottom half and all I could imagine is the many ways in which I wish to be between them.</p><p>“I will leave you two to alone to talk, Pip honey do you need something from Sainsburys?” Sian remained quiet, her grandmother continued “text me if you do, love you. Bye” she gave one last glare towards me before leaving the house</p><p>Sighing I knew I had owed her somewhat of an explanation, however finding the words to elucidate this past month would be troublesome. It was evident despite her Grandmother and Sister belonging to creatures she was not of the same ilk nor was she aware of our existence. Ascending the stairs to her, I stopped two steps below though meeting her gaze.</p><p>“Finally fuckin decided to face me you wankstain” she spat “had I of realised I was evidently such a disappointment I’d of left after New York” She frowned turning away</p><p>“You have never and could never be described as such, Sian. If you were I’m confident Alan Sugar would not have headhunted you” attempts to move a strand of hair behind her ear were thwarted as he swatted my hands away</p><p>“NO! You do not get to come in here suited and booted trying to make things right! You just LEFT! AGAIN!” She raised her voice “I can’t work for someone like that I just can’t!”</p><p>“I am just not simply well adjusted to needing to explain my every move to someone. I did not intend to have been kept away for as long as I had” she had resisted turning to me so I jolted her chin in my direction, hand still on her face I continued “it was an unfortunate family emergency. One I cut short when I caught wind of your resignation. I do not recall a time I have ever been so quick to board a plane, nor do I wish to experience the same level of panic as I did reading the email from HR”</p><p>Her lips twitched slightly, her hand aimlessly smoothing out my tie “you panicked at the thought of my resignation?” <em>she truly had no idea the effect she had on me. Good.</em></p><p>“I do not want to persist you staying, but I do wish you would re consider your resignation. I intend, when the moment arises to draw up a new contract. I may even consider paying you this time” her breathy laugh rang like music through my ears “Can I consider this faltering in your hard stance as a indication of relenting on your previous outburst?”</p><p>“I just don’t know if you have done enough to convince me. If I refuse this offer from Sir Alan Sugar another opportunity may not arise like it again. I just don’t know if you are worth the gamble” brushing my hand away from her face she stepped down to the stair that had separated us “convince me to stay, Baldwin” she trailed her small hand over my chest meeting the top of my belt. This indication was enough alone to understand, pulling her warm body to mine I grasped hold of her delectable ass removing any last distance between us.</p><p>
  <em>That closeness, together as one is how we remained for the next six month, until it all fell apart. </em>
</p><p> </p>
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